Beyond the Red Sky
by Dedeen
Summary: A story about how Jay and Erin find love in an otherwise forsaken world. Linstead AU.
1. Chapter 1

**New Story! I'm missing Linstead just as much as you guys. So this is me coping with it. Enjoy!**

 **Big thanks to SoFeelingTheLove for Beta'ing this and being a great soundboard.**

 **I own nothing.**

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 **Erin's POV**

 **Prologue** :

 _They say the war tore a hole in the sky and that's why Earth turned into a wasteland. The viral outbreak that followed only made things worse. Healthy world order went to shit and so did our central government. But as luck would have it, a cure was found in the blood of a handful of people who were immune to the virus. A simple blood transfusion from an immune person (donor) was enough to combat the disease. The remaining governing factions took advantage of this and began hunting and harvesting donor blood. 'Sacrifice the few to save the many,' was their slogan. But let me be clear, no one was interested in saving anyone; they were only interested in power, and donor blood equaled power._

 _But that's all about to change._

 _x_

 **Year 2057**

The sun blazes a furnace on my face as it beats down from overhead. The sky has no color to it. The unfiltered rays leave everything seemingly bleached-out, over-exposed. Sweat trickles down my temples and my throat feel as dry as dust. I look up and see sand stretched out in every direction. Hank once told me there used to be a lake here, a shimmering sea of silver and blue. In my mind, oceans and lakes are only dreamlike wonders. Most of them dried up long before I was born - as if someone, from below, had pushed it up until it leveled with anything else. On scorching hot days like today, I like to imagine myself jumping feet first into one.

I've been scavenging for nearly three days and I'm beginning to feel every bit of it. The air is so dry it hurts to breathe. I unwrap the linen clinging to my face and it is damp with sweat and gritty with sand. I just want to stop and take a break, but I know better. The Hunters will be out patrolling soon and I can't afford to get caught. I readjust the scarf over my face and quicken my pace through the hot, desert plain.

I walk a few more miles along the warped and broken asphalt. The road is strewn with burned-out cars and debris from a world long dead _._ Down a small hill I spot a small shack made out of scrap metal and wood. It seems to still have a working door and only half a roof but it will give me a few minutes of shade. I cock my gun, just in case, step into the doorway, and push open the door. It swings open on its one remaining hinge before splintering away from the frame and crashing to the floor in a cloud of dust. The shack is Empty. Another dead place. Flies buzz in the still, dank air. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust.

I slump on a what I think used to be bench and pull my canteen out. I take a sip, but the tepid water doesn't do much to kill my thirst.

"Lincoln 5021, anyone there?" I rasp into my radio. "Lincoln 5021. Anyone copy?" I try again.

Nothing.

The radio has been silent for the last two days now. It's not like I expected anyone to be this far out anyways. I lean back, close my eyes, and I find myself drifting into fantasy land. I think of the lake. The water so clear and blue you can see pebbles glistening at the bottom. I imagine the surge lapping against my ankles as I take slow steps inward. The water feeling cool and refreshing against my skin. I see myself swimming, going deeper and deeper to the bottom that may never come.

A shuffling noise from somewhere underneath the floors grabs my attention. I jump to my feet and slide my gun out from my holster. I stand still listening for movements, but nothing. Then I hear it again - rustling of dirt and debris underneath the floorboards.

"Who's there?" I ask.

The racketing continues until I see one of the floorboards being pushed up from below. I point my gun straight at it. "I have a gun. Think twice before doing anything stupid," I warn.

The light filtering inside the shack is not enough to chase away the shadows. I strain my eyes and slowly begin to a see the silhouette of a man pulling himself up from underneath the floors. His movements are slow and strained. I can see how grueling it is for him to simply haul himself out. He doesn't seem like a threat. Still, my gun is cocked, but lowered slightly.

He steadies himself on his hands and knees, but keeps his face is cast down. He mumbles something, but it's incoherent. He repeats the same jumbled sound over and over, until I finally realize what he is saying.

 _Water._

"Who are you?" I ask, my gun still aimed at him. "Where'd come from?"

"Wah-ter," he croaks out and pushes himself on his knees.

"Don't move. If you do anything stupid, I won't think twice before putting a hole in your head."

He raises his hands in surrender and slowly lifts his head up. The little sunlight that shafts through a window illuminates his whole face and his eyes, though red-rimmed, are deep, deep blue. Like what I've envision the ocean to be in the midst of a storm. It is so disarming that I momentarily lose focus.

"W-Where did you come from?" I find myself asking, seeking anything that will keep his attention while I recover mine. He slowly stands up and his eyes widen briefly when he finally looks at me, but says nothing. He stands there for a long moment - all tall and lean. His hair is mussed and his skin is pale and sallow. I look past the filthy on his clothes and see that he is wearing a blue jacket with a red stripe on each side - a guard's uniform. "What's a city guard doing this far west?" I question.

He shakes his head and looks down at the jacket he is wearing. "Not a guard. I just… can I have a sip of water?"

Then the thought crosses my mind: he was probably banned from the city because he is infected.

"I'm not infected," he says as if reading my mind.

"Show me your hands." I demand.

"I'm not infec-"

"Show me your fucking hands!" I repeat.

The man holds his hands outstretched, palm faced downwards. I watch it closely for any sign of ticks or tremors, but his hands remain steady.

"I'm not infected." He repeats. He glances up at me, just barely, but the raw pain in his blue eyes shakes me to the core and I feel my center of gravity shifting slightly. "A small sip, please?" He adds under his breath.

I look away and take a deep breath. I can feel him watching me, his eyes following my every move. Against my better judgment, I unclip the canteen from my backpack and throw in his direction. The man dives for it and guzzles the remaining lukewarm water so fast it splatters across the front of his shirt. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks back up at me with eyes filled with gratitude. I think I see a hint of a smile pulling at the right corner of his lips.

"Thank you," he utters.

"Don't thank me yet. I haven't decided what to do with you," I tell him curtly – don't want him thinking my guard is down. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he retorts.

The nerve. "Except, I'm the one holding the gun," I remind him.

"Look," he stares at me calmly. "I'm not looking for trouble."

"Listen here…" I begin, but the sound of a car engine rattling in the distance startles me. We look at each other wordlessly and without warning the man swipes the gun from my hand, hauls me inside the hole he just crawled out from, and secures it. He hoovers above me covering my mouth with his insanely warm palms. I try to push him off, but he brings a finger to his lips, motioning for me to be quiet. I grit my teeth and, in another futile attempt, try to push him away. He leans over me and presses me down against the ground, stilling me.

"Hold still, for God's sake." His rumbling voice is gentle, but I'm too panicked to realize it.

"No! Let me go," I say, but my words are muffled against his palm. I try to squirm, move a leg, pull my arms out, something, but he is holding me so tightly, surprisingly not hurtful, but I still can't budge.

"Hey." He leans steadily closer, until I can feel his hot breath against my ear. "I'm not going to hurt you."

His proximity sucks all the air from my lungs. My nerves tingle and I shudder as if an electric shock shot straight through me. It renders me motionless. I lie still and the silence between us amplifies the clatter of the engine approaching. I feel his grip loosen.

"I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth. Please don't scream." His voice is calm, but barely audible.

Slowly he takes his hand away from my mouth and I'm struck with silence. We gape at each other as the raucous of the engine draws nearer, then stalls. A car door screeches open followed by the sound of footsteps crushing the broken pavement outside. The man hovering above me inches forwards just slightly and says, "Hunters." For a moment his eyes rest upon mine. Pale, limpid blue, much paler than I've ever seen on anyone before. They look into mine and my whole body lights up, and frankly, it scares me.

"If they find us, you run and I will-" He starts, but his words are cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps.

A voice calls out, "There's nothing here."

From the cracks on the floor I can see blue uniforms with yellow stripes. Definitely Hunters.

"Check the cabinets. Maybe there's something we can use," another voices chimes in.

The floor creaks above me and tiny dust particles falls on us as the men scamper across the floors from one end of the shack to the other. I hear them ransacking the place, stuffing their bags with whatever they find. I feel the man press his body closer to mine. My heart races and I'm not certain it is motivated by fear.

"Come on. Let's get the hell out of here. This smell is making me want to retch."

"Indeed," a voice agrees. "He couldn't have gone far."

The blue eyes above me locks with mine, the weariness in them tells me what I already reckoned: these hunters are looking for him. But why? I suddenly feel drawn to him like a moth to a five thousand megawatt bug zapper.

Gradually, the footsteps retreat outside. We hear a car door slam, and its tires screech as it speeds away. We don't move and suddenly he is everywhere – all around me, overwhelming my already heightened senses. I need to put some distance between us because for reasons unbeknownst to me my skin is ready to jump off my body. I start to move and he takes the hint and we begin to haul out of the hole. To my surprise, he reaches behind him and hands me back my gun.

"Sorry. Had to act fast." He says. "You okay?"

The deep concern in his voice catches me off guard and irks me a little. "I'm fine," I answer, my voice clipped. "Why are they hunting you?"

For a fleeting instant I see a glimpse of something deeper in his eyes. However, as quickly as it appears, it dissipates and is replaced by a hard stare. "The less you know the better off you are."

I take a few steps forwards and holster my gun. "Who are you?"

He shakes his head. "Nobody."

His ambiguity shouldn't unsettle me, but it does. "Explain to me why are Hunters all the way out here looking for a _nobody_?"

He heaves a long sigh, looking at me with those ice blue eyes that seems to be as deep as the ocean itself. As if the ocean itself was focused on me.

"Look, I don't want to put you in anymore danger than what I already have," he says and pulls a bag from underneath the floors.

"Where are you headed?" I hear myself ask.

"West," is all he says. "I'm looking…" He shakes his head and leaves the sentence unfinished. He narrows his eyes and looks me up and down. "Where are you headed? You're not a hijacker and you are too put together to be a drifter. You live around here?"

"No," I tell him.

When I don't elaborate, he gives me a little head nod and throws the bag over his shoulders. "I guess I'll be on my way then."

He gives me a meaningful look. I feel momentarily stymied. Then I blurt out, "You don't have water, and I bet you don't have food either. You won't survive another day out there."

"I guess that will make one of us happy," he tells me with a lopsided grin. "But it doesn't matter. I know I'm close."

"Close to where?" I ask.

He looks at me searchingly, as though he is trying to read my thoughts, as if he wants to know he can trust me. Then, after a beat of silence, he says, "I'm looking for the _Refuge_."

I blink, taken aback by his statement, but only momentarily. "W-Who told you there is such a thing as a _Refuge_?" I hear the misplaced bite in my own voice and I cringe. "It's an old wives' tale," I say and put a touch of levity into my tone as I gaze at him.

He pauses. His eyes briefly leaving mine and his stare turns empty and opaque. "I heard about it. Thought it might be true. Can't blame a guy for hoping, right?" He shrugs. Then, "I was told I would fine someone named Hank Voight there."

At the mention of Hank's name, I go for my gun and point it at him. He's taken aback and stumbles a few steps back. "Who are you?" I ask.

"Wait… Do you know who Hank Voight is?" He questions, narrowing his eyes. I can see hope ballooning in them.

"Who sent you?" I inquire curtly, taking a few steps forward. "Why are you looking for Hank?" I ask.

"You know Hank Voight." This is no longer a question, but statement. He inches carefully forward. "I need to –"

I don't think twice before pulling a tranquilizer gun from my waistband and shooting his leg without a second thought. He falls to his knees and his eye slowly shut. However, I'm still haunted by the blue in them

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 **Thanks for reading. More chapters coming soon. Let me know what you guys think! Cheers!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the reviews! I know this is a little different, but I wanted to venture outside the box a little. =)**

 **Again, thanks to SoFeelingTheLove for her help! Here is the next segment.**

 **I own nothing.**

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 **Jay's POV**

It's the unfamiliarity that wakes me.

Dim streaks of light, gray and waning are filtering in through a small window. It is hard to focus, hard to think. I cannot completely discern whether my eyes are open or closed. My mouth feels dry, my head throbs with a blinding, stabbing headache. Things keep coming in and out of focus. I try to keep with it. Slowly my sight begins to make sense and I see that I'm confined in a foreign small room, with a table and two chairs keeping me company. I move my right arm a little and note the familiar sensation of the cool plastic tube which penetrates my skin, into my vein. But on second look I can see that the tube running into the inside of my right arm connects to a saline drip – not a blood collection bag.

I try to stand, but my left arm pulls me back to where I'm seated. I'm handcuffed to the table. I try to think back as to how I got here but everything is hazy. Still, I force my way through the fog in my mind and flashes of memories flood my brain. Specific details are fuzzy, except for _her._ The only thing I remember, or think I remember, is _her_ – her face, her wavy honey hair, her hazel-green eyes, and her freckled nose. Her memory is not distant, nor does it flicker on-and-off. It's bright and there and all-consuming.

I didn't even ask her name.

I hear some commotion outside and then the door to the room swings open. In walks an older man wearing a clean button-down shirt, tucked in, and dark pants. He has a stern, serious expression and looks as though his face will crack if he smiles. I've encountered many men like him - cold, tough guys with indecipherable poker faces, who don't give a shit about anyone.

He looks at me, eyes stoic and uninviting, as he sets a plastic cup down on the table. "Water," he rasps.

When I don't move his gaze follows my eyes to the handcuff and the I.V. in my right arm.

"Right." He pulls out a key ring from his pocket and releases the cuff from around my wrist. "Don't make me regret taking these off," he cautions me.

Instead of going for the cup I grab the I.V. drip attached to my arm and yank it off along with the nodes connected to my finger – in case I get a chance to make a run for it.

In the meantime, the old man walks around the table and takes a seat, crosses his legs, and leans back. There is a beat of silence before he asks, "Where are you coming from?" His tone is hard, but nonthreatening. I figure the best thing to do is to keep my mouth shut, so I decide to just stare at him.

He cracks an unamusing smile. "You're wearing a guard's uniform, but you're not a guard." He leans forward. He starts to say something and then stops and shakes his head. "You know…you're the only one to make it out here in a long time." The old man doesn't sound impressed. He sounds pleased, actually. "So, I want to know where are you coming from?" His hand motions to my attire. "East faction?"

"Who are you?" I ask after a short pause. "What do you want with me?"

He shakes his head and chuckles humorlessly. "I ask the questions, kid. Now tell me –" he insists. "Where are you coming from?"

I push myself up to my feet, but my legs wobble underneath me. Still, I take a few tentative steps trying to find my footing. The old man doesn't say anything—doesn't tell me to sit back down; he simply watches my every move. Then, "You're not a prisoner here," he says, as if reading my thoughts. "The door is open."

"Why the cuffs then?" I retort.

"For _our_ safety." He uncrosses his arms and legs and sits upright. He looks like he has something on his mind, but his face remains stoic. "Look, I know it's hard for you to understand, but I don't want anything from you."

I scoff a laugh. "Bullshit."

He shakes his head, then huffs a sigh. "Why don't you sit down? You look like you're ready to fall on your face. I don't want to have to mop you off my floors." He pushes the plastic cup towards me. "Take the water."

"I'm fine," I tell him, though, we both know it's the furthest thing from the truth. I slump down on the chair, but the plastic cup stays untouched. "Look," I begin. "You said I could go, right? Just show me the door and I will be on my way."

He stands up then and pulls his chair next to mine. He leans forwards and looks intently at me now, with a deeper gaze. He hesitates for a moment, as if he is weighing his options. "I know what you are." He rolls up his shirt sleeves, and I see the scars and the discoloration on the inside of his right arm. Needle marks. The same ones I have. I find myself with my mouth hanging open, my eyes wide, shocked. I don't even try to mask how stunned I must look. I gaze into the old man's eyes and he says, "Heard you were looking for me?"

I'm momentarily struck with silence. His mouth moves. He may be saying more. In fact, I know he is saying more. But I sit with a locked expression on my face, hearing almost nothing except the sound in my head telling me that I made it out. A tidal wave of relief washes over me, and I suddenly feel the tightening in my chest release. "Y-You're Hank Voight?" I somehow manage to string the question together.

He nods, slowly unrolling his sleeve and fastening his cuff.

I look around the room, not knowing quite what to do with myself. I don't know what to say either. My tongue seems to be frozen to the roof of my mouth. I just sit, numb and stunned.

"How about you take the water now?" He tells me and I like a puppy I oblige. He looks down and back up at me and I'm still staring at him like I've swallowed my tongue. "Let's start again, what's your name?"

"J-Jay," I tell him. "Jay Halstead."

"Where are you coming from?"

"The Aedes. I'm also a donor," I tell him, showing him the insides of my arms – all scarred, all freshly bruised. I free my left arm from the jacket and push my short sleeve up to my shoulder. The bar code imprints on my skin just below my bicep: 51163_Type_O.

"Universal giver, uh?" He accentuates the words, unrolling each syllable. "I can see why they hunted you so far West. Got any family?"

"Yeah, but I don't know where they are."

He nods, understanding flashing across his face. "How did you get away?"

"Freddie helped me. He gave me this uniform and I was able to get out. He told me I would find you here."

"Ah, Freddie," he whispers under his breath. "Is he still playing tricks on the guards?"

The smile on my face fades. Freddie didn't make it. Hank realizes this when my face clouds with melancholy. His reply comes out as a sad sigh. "He was a good guy. Reason why I got out." He releases a lung full of air before continuing, "We could use your intel. We haven't had anyone escape in a long time. But first," He puts one hand on my shoulder. "Let's get you settled in. We can talk shop later." He gives me a firm pat on the back. "You are safe here. And no one has to know you're a donor. That's for you to decide if you want to tell."

I nod silently. "Uh," I hesitate, but the question is gnawing at me. "How did I get here?"

Hank smiles and whistles. I follow his gaze towards the door as it slowly opens and the woman I ran into at the shack peeks her head inside, her honey hair falling on one shoulder. She beams me a smile, and I realize I'm utterly paralyzed with a new emotion I can't describe. I smile back, feeling almost happy, which doesn't occur too often as of late.

"Jay Halstead, meet Erin Lindsay," Hank says. "She brought you in. She's part of our intelligence unit. She will be…"

Hank's words don't register anymore. I push myself to stand and her hazel-green eyes have an electric intensity that holds me captive. Unlike before, she looks very comfortable and at ease - as if all her rough edges have been sanded down. I hold out my hand. "I almost didn't recognize you without your gun pointed at me."

Her long, slender fingers rise and as soon as our hands touch I feel a jolt of electricity go up my arm. Seriously, it's like touching exposed live-wire, and I swear my hair must be sticking up like I stuck my finger in a socket.

"It's nice to finally put a name to the face." Her voice is husky and low. She releases my hand but the surge continues to course my veins.

"Erin." I say, repeating her name and letting it roll over on my tongue. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Jay," she says sweetly, I think I see her cheeks turning a bit pink.

Hanks gives us the once-over and clears his throat. "Take him around, give him a room. And if he is up for it bring him up to the bullpen," Hank says. He pats me on the back one last time and steps out.

"So, _you_ brought me here?" I ask because I'm easily double her size.

She sweeps her hair behind her ear. "Shot you with a tranq gun. Dragged you to our safe house and called for back-up."

"You couldn't have just let me walk?"

"I didn't trust you," she says simply.

"You trust me now?"

Erin looks searchingly at me. "Haven't made up my mind yet. But Hanks seems to. So I will give you the benefit of the doubt."

This girl is going to keep me on my toes, I realize. "So, what's this place?" I ask.

"This?" she questions motioning to the building itself. "I guess it was a school back in the day." She steps out of the small room and into the hallway. I follow. "That used to be the main office over there." She motions to the large open area with an old wooden table with intricate carvings on its sides. "It's now our welcome center."

Erin walks ahead of me and I try to pick up pace, but my legs begin to feel heavy and my muscles scream with pain. At one point she notices that I'm not anywhere near her and she stops. She looks back and her cheeks flush that same pink hue from before. "You feeling okay? She asks.

"I'll try to keep up," I pipe up.

When she smiles, dimples appear on both sides of her cheek and I feel all warm inside. She slows her pace as we make our way down the hallway. She stops walking and turns towards the main desk. I take the clue that I'm supposed to stop walking as well. I watch her push up on her toes looking for something or someone. She drums her fingers on the wooden counter and seemingly out of thin air a tall, older woman with a healthy amount of iron-gray hair pops out from behind it like a Jack-in-the-box. It scares the shit out of me.

"Hello, Erin," she greets her happily. Then her gaze falls on me and she turns curiously harsh. She seems to have pasted another face of on top of the original. She eyes me suspiciously for a moment, scrutinizing my no doubt disheveled self. "Who are you?" She demands, with another contemptuous up-and down scanning. "Looks like you've been dragged through hell and back.," she adds, her voice acquiring a hard edge.

"Ah. Yes-" I begin.

"-He's the newcomer," Erin cuts in. "Jay, this is Trudy Platt. She's like out desk sergeant."

"Nice to meet you," I offer.

Trudy Platt appraises me once more, eyes narrowed, considering. It's a little unnerving, and sensing that maybe that's how I feel, Erin says, "He needs a room."

The older woman, still l looking suspicious, disappears behind the desk. Erin and I stand there listening to her rummaging through a lower drawer while muttering to herself. Seconds later, Trudy Platt bolts up and places a key on the counter. "Block B. 217," she says. She then places a clear plastic pouch on the desk. "A few essentials."

I scoop it all up. "Thank you."

"Welcome to the Refuge," the old woman says flatly.

I nod and we leave.

"She's pleasant," I say.

"She's great," Erin replies. I can't tell yet if she's being sarcastic or if she genuinely thinks Platt was pleasant.

We walk down a few hallways and up a set of stairs. I see people mingling about, talking, and even laughing – the atmosphere feels easy and comfortable. However, a gnawing feeling sits in the pit of my stomach, like the other shoe is about to drop. Look, I'm not a pessimist. I'm a realist, acknowledging life for what it is. And my life hasn't been a walk in the park.

"This is it." Erin stops in front of a door. "Home sweet home. Well, not home, _home_ but you know, home," she says.

I key inside. The room is small, but very clean and simply furnished - a bed, table, and chair. I can tell this used to be a classroom, though cut in half. There's still remnants of an old blackboard on the wall. I sit on my bed and sink right into it - the metal springs lacking any tension whatsoever.

"It's not much, but-"

"-It's perfect," I tell her. "This is better than what I had."

Erin looks at me and I can almost see the question forming on her lips. "And where was that?" She asks tentatively.

She takes a seat on the chair, bringing her eyes level with mine. There is an interesting shade of green there. It is like the water I've seen in some old pictures; light foam green that makes you want to jump in it. Realizing that she's waiting for me to say something, I shake out my thoughts and clear my throat. "The city. East faction," I tell her.

"You worked there?"

I contemplate how to best answer her and when I come up short, I reply, "You can say that."

"I heard most workers are treated alright," she notes.

"Yeah, not me."

I want to tell Erin I'm a donor, but I can't. She can never know. Come to think of it, I can't let myself get too close either. If they find me here, they will not only take me, but also those close to me to insure my full cooperation. I've seen this happen - wives, mothers, fathers taken as prisoners because of their affiliation with a donor. It's effective, and that's why I have to keep my distance. It's the only way to keep her (everyone) safe.

"Thanks for… everything," I say pushing myself to stand. "I think I will, uh, rest for a bit now."

Erin jumps to her feet and smiles sympathetically. "Yeah. You should. Maybe I can give you a tour tomorrow or when you're feeling up for it, take you up to the bullpen-"

"-Yeah, maybe." I cut in.

Silence hangs in the air, and it's heavy - like a dense fog - impossible to ignore, so I say the first thing that comes to my mind, "Are there showers?"

"Oh, yes. The showers are down the hall, to your left. I will see if can get you some clean clothes."

"That would be nice," I tell her and her smile widens slightly, just enough to delve those dimples in her cheeks.

We stand there looking at each other awkwardly again. It's as though she's waiting for something to happen, or for me to say something, at least. I step back feeling like a total fraud. Being a donor is both a gift and a curse. On the one hand, I won't die from a painful, bloody death. On the other, I'm alone. I don't know which is worse.

"I guess I will see you around," she says. I can tell she's lingering. "Oh, um, my room is just down the hall. 213. If you need anything."

I nod and push my hands into the pockets of my pants.

She lingers at the door a moment longer, then leaves. I hear her footsteps receding down the hall. I don't move until it is completely silent again. I pretend not to notice the slight frown on her face. No doubt I put it there. I tell myself it is for her own good, but it doesn't make it hurt any less.

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 **Thanks for reading. Tell me what you guys think! Cheers!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here is ch. 3! All thanks to SoFeelingTheLove for Beta'ing.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Erin's' POV**

His blue eyes haunt me.

He is mysterious and charming; irritating and intriguing; and I'm afraid that my feelings are starting to get the best of me, despite my efforts to suppress them. I've been quite content to skate through life without being muddled by this overwhelming urge to indulge my curiosity in another human being. Curiosity, I know, will only complicate things. But whenever he is around I feel anticipation (and a little bit of fear) pooling in my stomach and then overflowing to every other part of my body. It is frustrating how he can throw me off my axis with a single glance, an eyebrow quirk, or a smirk.

This feels a lot like being on drugs, one I can't get out from underneath it. Jay is like a drug running rampant through my blood stream. I try to pretend not to notice or care, but just being near him makes my skin burn so hot it can light a match. I don't know what it is about him, but I'm drawn to him. I'm aware how strangely this sounds, because I barely know the guy.

x

I toss and turn most of the night until I finally give up the idea of falling back to sleep. Early the next day, I try to convince myself not to go knock on Jay's door. In my head I try to justify - thinking he is new here and probably wants someone to show him the ropes. I figure everything can be so overwhelming at first, and it's nice when someone is there to help out. Minutes tick by and I gather enough courage to make my way to his room. As I reach his door, I pause and look down the hallway. Empty. His room, I find it, dark - no light leaking out from underneath the door. Jay is probably still asleep. I knock once. Twice. Three times. Nothing. He must be a heavy sleeper. I knock a bit more forcefully, but instead of Jay peeking his head out, Kim from next door steps out of her room in her blue patrol uniform.

"Looking for the new guy?" She asks.

I nod. "Yeah."

"You just missed him," she says.

"Oh," I say, only slightly disappointed. I tuck the feeling away. "Did you see where he went?" I ask, my voice uncharacteristically snippy and I immediately regret my abruptness.

"Maybe he's headed to the cafeteria?" She answers, oblivious to my tone.

"Thanks, Burgess." I feel guilty when I smile. I make my way down the hall trying not to feel a bit dejected, but I can't. I guess I was looking forward to seeing him.

I reach the cafeteria and scan the crowd, but I don't find him there. I grab a tray of whatever they are serving and head to the bullpen. When I arrive, everything is still. The only noise is coming from Hank's office. I can hear him talking to _someone_. My heart speeds up of its own accord in anticipation. I walk a little closer, but I can't see who it is because the blinds are pulled all the way down. I retreat to my desk and pick at the food on my tray, not really tasting, or eating. Minutes pass and Jules walks in, followed by the guys. The bullpen comes alive. I don't take part in their antics because my eyes are glued to Hank's office.

I rub the back of my neck, the lack of sleep catching up on me. I head to the makeshift kitchen to make myself some coffee when Hank's door finally opens, and Jay steps out. He looks different. Better. He stands tall, beard trimmed down, hair combed, his eyes, no longer rimmed red, are sky blue, almost too light to be real. He is wearing a plain dark shirt and jeans. He is also sporting this quiet sort of confidence as if he knows he can get away with anything. His eyes are like pools, and they make every part of me come alive the moment they catch mine. I feel my melancholy mood vanish.

We exchange small waves of acknowledgement, and I return to making coffee. I want to pretend like I don't care that he is here, but my heart pounds so loudly in my ears I can't think straight. Twice, I lost count of the scoops of coffee grounds and have to empty the paper cone and start over.

"Everyone," Hank bellows and everyone's eyes turn to him. "This Jay Halstead. He's s newcomer and will be joining our team. He's coming from the East faction and has a lot of intel to share."

Everyone walks up to shake his hand and he displays this goofy grin on his face, and I feel _jealous_. I try to fight it down, but there it is, plain as day and I have no intentions on deciphering what this means.

After everyone returns to their respective desks, Jay lingers awkwardly at the head of the pen. Then, he hesitates before entering the little kitchenette, looking around, unsure.

"Hey," he says, his voice a little tentative.

"Hey. You look rested." I tell him.

"Yeah," he nods.

Several seconds of awkward silence pass before I say, "I tried your room this morning, but you had already left."

"Oh, uh… I had to meet with Hank. So…" He ends the sentence with a shrug.

"Right," I say, waving it off - like it's nothing. I don't know what comes over me. But I look straight at him and the words just jump straight from my thoughts and out of my mouth, sort of bypassing my brain. "Maybe we can grab lunch later and I can finish showing you around."

"Oh, this afternoon? I, um, can't." He offers no further explanation.

To cover my disappointment, I lower my head and pour myself some coffee. "Maybe some other time then," my mouth goes on again, speaking without my permission, bypassing not only my brain but my common sense now.

He presses his lips together so tightly, they go white; it's like he is trying to seal them, to make sure no words come out. But ultimately he says, "Yeah, some other time."

He nods politely and I wonder what is going on behind his pale eyes. He seems tense and somewhat distant. As I walk past him to my desk, my hand accidentally brushes against his arm. Just a few fingertips graze the skin below his elbow. He notices. I think I hear him silently gasp. My eyes look up to his, staring at the spot on his arm where I touched him. Does he feel the same electricity that I do?

"Sorry," I offer. I see something behind his eyes. Before I can decipher what it is, he blinks it away.

"No, uh, no problem," he says and shuffles to the only empty desk, which happens to be conveniently across from mine.

The next few hours we spend being debriefed. Jay knows the layout of the most important building in the city, aptly named Aedes – homage to the blood sucking mosquito. It's where the city imprisons and harvest donor blood. It is highly secured and seemingly impossible to breach. The building itself is surrounded by a high perimeter wall on each side with five checkpoints armed with guards. I momentarily wonder how Jay was able to escape.

"If we can take this building," Hanks says nodding his head. "We take the city."

We all look at each other because this sounds more like a suicide mission. I look at Jay and he is nodding his head, but I don't think he realizes he is doing it.

"How are we supposed to get through these checkpoints?" Jules asks.

"We won't be going through the check points," Hank says.

Hank and Jay exchange quick looks. Jay clears his throat. "There is a pipe system that drains waste into a reservoir about a mile outside the city," Jay start, his voice is low, but assertive. "It's big enough to fit a person. If we can get someone inside, I have a contact who can help us bypass their security system."

"Exactly what kind of waste drains into the reservoir?" Adam asks.

"Biological waste." Jay says and shoots Adam an apologetic look. "It's risky, but it's the only way."

"I will do it," I volunteer. "We probably need someone small. We can't risk Kevin getting stuck," I add for some levity.

Everyone laughs; except Jay. His blue eyes narrow. I think I see worry hover at the corners of his eyes, though he is quick to mask it.

"Once inside," Hank continues. "We take them down from the bottom up, this will happen gradually. They can't see we're coming. We will do a dry run tomorrow - search out the place. We can't afford any mistakes. This is the break we've been waiting for. Erin," he turns his attention to me. "Talk to Platt and see is she can spare a couple of patrol officers for tomorrow."

"We'll do," I say.

"Where are we meeting tomorrow?" Jay asks.

"Jay, I want you to sit this one out," Hank says and takes a couple of steps towards him. "As soon as you get back on your feet– "

"I feel fine," Jay say, trying to convince himself as much as he is trying to convince Hank. "I know the place. I've seen that reservoir a thousand times. I can help," he adds.

"Kid, you've been here five minutes. Rest up. We got this."

Whatever argument hovered on Jay's lips dies. Instead of following Hank to continue to plead his case, he turns and walks towards me. I can't read his face, it's blank—no confusion, no annoyance, no squint of frustration.

"Hey," he says. His voice sounds odd, hesitant, timid. "If the offer still stands…" He clears his throat and asks almost too offhandedly, "Are you still up for a tour?"

I stop for a moment and look at him. "Today?"

He raises an eyebrow and a grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. It is as if I'm seeing a completely different Jay from a few moments ago. Where's the awkward, closed off guy who was all distant? I rein in my surging emotions, struggling to get them under control.

"Why? You're plans for this afternoon fell through?" I ask, hating the waspish bite to my tone. I soften it a bit with, "There is no rush. I just thought you maybe wanted to know your way around."

"I do." Tilting his head, he lowers his voice. It becomes deceptively tender - the soft drawling tone gentle. "Can we do it today?"

I fight once again to keep from being undone by his tenderness, by the look in his clear blue eyes. To keep focus I dig my nails into my palms of my hands. "Why the change of mind," I press.

He releases a ragged sigh and drags his fingers through his short hair. "I just…" He hesitates. "I thought about it and I rather do it today. Like you said, I should know my way around." He grins.

I bring my gaze up sharply to probe his—a mistake. His expression is gentle, disarming. For once I let myself bask in his smile, not worrying if he has an ulterior motive, or is trying to manipulate me. I just want to enjoy its warmth. My feelings must be showing on my face. With a small, rough sound deep I his throat, he asks, "Will you?"

"Okay," I hear myself agree. "I need to go talk to Platt, but come find me after."

"Okay." This boyish smile spread from ear to ear across his face. "I will come find you."

To feign indifference, I give him a tepid smile, despite my heart beating frantically against my ribs.

x

I go about my day, trying to figure Jay out. He is turning out to be the king of sending mixed messages. Hot one moment, cold the next. Up close and personal one minute, distant and reserved the next. I can't figure him out and it is driving me crazy. Never have I met someone that intrigued me and infuriated me simultaneously. I should keep my distance. I should bury whatever this is and drain him from my thoughts. But I can't. I'm drawn to him, and everything is pushing me toward him, not away.

He finds me later in the common area talking to Kim and Seam. They will be heading up to the city with us tomorrow.

"Hey," Jay timidly waves. He nods politely to Kim and Sean and adds, "If this is not a good time, I can come back later."

"It's okay," I assure him. "We are just about done."

I finish relaying the rest of the information to Kim and Sean and tell them to meet us at the loading dock at dawn. In my periphery I can see Jay standing off to the side, looking nervous, swaying slightly from foot to foot.

"I will see you guys tomorrow." I wave Kim and Sean goodbye and turn to Jay. "So, what do you want to see first?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. He is wearing a lazy grin. "You pick."

My heart speeds up a bit and my lips spread out in a smile all of their own accord. "Okay."

I show him the housing blocks, the recreational and common areas, the greenhouse, and finish with the loading dock. This whole time he keeps quiet, listening intently to every words that spills from my lips. His eyes flick with the first real bit of ease I've seen in him today. I try not to let his proximity or the intensity of his gaze throw me off, and attempt to get my emotions that must be all over face under control.

"So," Jay finally breaks his silence, glancing around at all the equipment we have at the dock. "Have you been here for a while?"

"Yes," I tell him. "I was fifteen when Hank and his wife took me in."

"His wife?" He asks with a furrowed brow.

"She passed away," I tell him. My heart involuntarily pinches.

"Oh." He looks like he wants to say more, but his lips press tightly together.

"Do you have any family?" I ask.

He nods. I see a flash of pain in his eyes. "I have a father and a brother, but I don't know where they are, or if they are still alive for that matter. We got separated a few years back." His finger slides over the hood of our old Chrysler 300. "You?"

"Um," I consider telling him about Bunny, but I rather not. Throughout my childhood, I was lost in my mother's anger. I felt disconnected from her, and always hoped that maybe someday a bond would develop. Her absence left a life-size hole in my heart and I became adept at trying to fill – usually with all the wrong things. My mother gave me life and ruined it, simultaneously.

"I have a mom and a half-brother," I decide to tell him. "But I also haven't seen them in years."

An awkward silence hangs in the air between us. I bite my lower lip uneasily. I can see that he has something on his mind which he wants to say, but feels some hesitancy about broaching it. After beating around the bush a little, he says suddenly, "Do you trust Hank?"

 _There it is_ , I think. The reason Jay changed his mind about the tour. "Yes," I tell him and I make sure to insert all the conviction I have to assure him. "He save me and almost everyone here."

"Do you agree with him about tomorrow?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" I ask, almost petulantly.

He is silent, then the words drag past his lips, reluctant as a confession. "I think it's too soon."

"Hank wouldn't knowingly put us in danger."

"He doesn't know the place like I do. They shoot to kill." He pauses. I don't realize his face is so close to mine until he speaks. His breath burns my skin and burrows deep down to my nerves, splitting them apart. "I don't want you to get hurt."

For the life of me I can't think of a thing to say. He steps a bit closer to me, if it is even possible. I can feel the overwhelming warmth of him. "I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if you did."

I shake this foggy haze from my head and fight the ridiculous, uncharacteristic heat traveling to all extremities in my body. "What-" I start to say, but I have no idea where I'm going with that sentence.

"Promise me you'll be safe tomorrow?" He asks.

I let the shock of his disturbingly tender voice wash over me for a moment, then I nod. "I-I will be fine. It's not my first time," I manage to tell him. The words fill heavy on my tongue.

"Just… be safe." He nods to me as a goodbye and walks away. My skin prickles as I watch him leave.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. Let me know if this is still something you're interested in. I was hesitant about this idea and I want you guys to let me know if this is something you'll continue reading. Cheers!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews!**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd. *Cue applause***

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Jay's POV**

Erin Lindsay has gotten under my skin big-time.

I know I should put a stop to it now, but only a part of my brain is saying so, and right now it doesn't seem to have much authority over the rest of me. I know how badly this can end. I desperately need to put some distance between us. But her sweet, slightly husky voice keeps haunting my dreams. I hope she hasn't noticed the effects she has on me because I'm completely and totally aware of how she makes me feel.

I lay awake in bed thinking about the dry run happening in the morning. I'm so tired, but can't sleep. I toss and turn and the night just seems to be slipping away. I start thinking about the consequences if this whole thing goes sideways. I won't be able to live with myself if Erin gets hurt in anyway. I need to do something, and I need to do it fast. The only way I can make sure Erin is safe is to convince Hank to let me go.

I get to the loading docks before anyone else. It's eerie silent, except for the low hum of the fluorescent lights above. I head up to the bullpen and find the light in Hank's office on. D _oes this guy ever sleep_? I hesitate, then knock softly. "Come in," he says. I open the door to find him sitting behind his desk with a drawn up map extending the length of the wooden top. He seems to be in deep thought, but says, "You're up early."

"Couldn't sleep," I tell him honestly. "I actually wanted to- "

"-Jay, you're sitting this one out," he says matter-of-factly, eyes not leaving the map.

"If you just listen-"

"- I'm not changing my mind," he says with something of a sigh.

"If things go south-"

"- We're not doing this."

"- You can use me as a bargaining chip."

He sighs and shakes his head. "Kid, I get that you want to help, but I can't risk putting you out there. If we get caught they won't waste their manpower chasing us past the divide. But they will for you. What runs through your veins is more valuable than a fleet of their best guards. They will spare no effort to find _you_."

Hank pauses and his words reverberate through the silence. They hit me hard like a punch in the gut. There is a painful reality to them. My father used to say it all the time: I put those around me in danger. My father had a bitter dislike for me. To cope I convinced myself that I hated him as much as he hated me. It wasn't until my mother died that I began to understand his anger.

"We have a real chance to do some good, Jay. You have to trust me on this," Hank adds. All arguments vaporize on my tongue. I nod, so he continues, "Just get in contact with your guy…"

"-Mouse," I manage to choke the word out. "His name is Mouse."

Hank pauses, his brow furrowed. "You trust this guy?"

"I trust him with my life," I tell him and it's the absolute truth.

"Get in contact with _Mouse_ and let him know we will do a dry run today and will plan to breach in a week's time."

I nod again.

Hank comes around the desk and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Everyone's probably waiting."

We go downstairs and the team is getting ready. Everyone is by their lockers pulling out any equipment that is needed. My eyes find Erin like a starving sunflower that seeks the sun. Immediately my heart speeds up and my lips spread out in a smile all of their own accord. Everything around cease to exist. For a short second I let myself bask in this feeling. This is what it must be like, to want someone so much you yearn to breathe in the very air they breathe out, just so you can keep part of them with you. I let the moment stretch out as far as physics allow, until a sharp pang of guilt gnaws at me. I need to bury these feelings, but I feel them coming out - actually, forcing their way out -like a massive avalanche.

"Hey," I say. Erin turns to me and her eyes are rimmed red - probably from lack of sleep. "You're ready?"

"Yeah," she nods, nonchalantly grabbing a Glock 9mm and shoving a clip into the handle. "We are mostly surveying the place, making sure we have everything we need when it's for real."

I watch her check that all attachments are properly secure and that the gun feels right. She looks it over and runs her hand over the barrel. Then my eyes catch the loose straps on her Kevlar vest.

"Here," I say and pull the loose straps a little tighter. The sudden proximity makes me uneasy. She's radiating something that makes my skin prickle like a panic response. I immediately take a step back and clear my throat. "All good."

"Thanks," she says, her voice small.

I nod and give her a half smile.

An uncomfortable silence settles between us, but I break it. "The reservoir will probably be knee deep if you keep to the edges," I tell her. "There is an old wooden plank near the edge of the pipe, don't step on it and -" Erin looks up at me. Her eyes are the greenest I have ever seen and when she focuses them on me whatever I'm about to say goes straight out of my head.

"And?" She questions.

"Oh, um, and…" I search for words. "Don't touch the water," I blurt out stupidly.

"That goes without saying," she chuckles and pulls back the slide on her gun to chamber the first bullet. "Walk near the edges, don't step on the plank, and don't touch the water," she says grabbing additional clips and stashing them into the pockets of her tactical gear.

I move my lips to respond, but Hank's voice cuts me off.

"Let's roll out," he bellows.

I take a deep breath and look in her eyes when I say, "Be safe."

Erin places a hand on my chest, making me aware of my own heartbeat. "Don't' worry. I will be safe."

She holsters her gun and I can see her shift slightly, feeling the weight of the weapon. She nods her head and I watch her slowly make her way to the passenger side on Hank's truck. A vague feeling creeps up. A terrible tightening, as if my heart is slowly winding a notch tighter in my chest.

x

Time passes differently when you are waiting - seems to elongate and stretch away from you. I watch the hands on the clock in the bullpen tick slowly, trying to shake the dreadful scenarios playing in my sleep deprived, thus, paranoid head. It's been almost three hours and the radios are quiet, except for the thrumming white noise of static. The team won't turn them on unless there's a problem - for fear the Aedes will intercept it. It's almost agonizing, waiting here, knowing that Erin – knowing _everyone_ is out there.

I let myself get as anxious as I want. The nervous energy bubbling inside of me is making me agitated so I pace. For fear I will probably wear a hole in the already scuffed floors with all my pacing, I decide to take a walk. I find myself at the main desk, but Platt shoos me away, ordering me to keep my ears glued to the radio. To keep my mind from going dark and to cope with the fizzing guilt, I begin to draw up a plan. If things go south, I will take the old 300 and offer myself up for their release. They won't kill me. Like Hank said, they will do anything to have me back. As much as it physically hurts to consider surrendering to them, I owe it to everyone here. They might not know, but I've put everyone in this refuge in danger.

I can't tell you how long it is until I hear Hank's voice come through the radio, and I can't tell how long it takes for them to get back. But I can tell you that the tightening in my chest suddenly dissipates when I see the cars pulling into the loading dock and a certain hazel eyed girl covered in filth from head to toe.

"We reconvene in thirty," Hank announces curtly on his way up to the bullpen. "Burgess. Roman. You too." He points to the patrol duo gushing water over their faces.

Everyone nods their head in agreement and goes about unloading the trucks. I slowly approach Erin, who is also drenching herself with the last bit of water from her canteen. I stare at her, watching the water drip from her clothing, leaving a small muddy puddle on the floor. Her shirt rides up and I see a curved scar – flat and well healed – just above her hip. I'm tempted to run my hand over it, and the ache to touch her skin becomes so powerful, my fingers start to burn.

"What?" She asks.

I feel my face flush a little at being caught staring. "Oh, uh, how did it go?"

She searches my eyes for a moment, as if trying to read my thoughts. Her face transforms into a grin, and I notice the freckles dancing across the bridge of her nose. "Good. I think we really have a chance here." She sounds hopeful. Excited even. "That was good intel, Halstead."

Her compliment is unexpected, and I can't help the sinking feeling in my gut: Erin will have to _do this_ again. I manage to open my mouth and force words out, "I'm glad."

There is a beat of silence before she says, "Hey, um…" She glances at me, just barely, but I feel the skin on the back of my neck start to tingle. "I want to pick your brain a little," she says and quickly adds, "About the Aedes. Since you know it so well."

She watches me expectably, those eyes of hers piercing mine. My mind goes on a tailspin whirring through all the reason I should say no. No, no, no. N-O. But our eyes meet and I think I see her cheeks flush a healthy pink.

"Sure." The word is spilling out of my mouth, completely bypassing my brain.

"Okay," she clears her throat and lowers her gaze and I can't help but wonder what she's thinking.

I realize both Adam and Kevin are now listening to our conversation with undisguised attention. Erin notices too. "I'm going to go wash this off," she gestures towards the muck on her clothes.

I can't deny the warmth that settles in my core as she tosses me a sideways grin. I nod, and watch her spin on the heels of her boots and disappear up the stairs. I look around and Kevin and Adam are still standing there with stupid, unabashed smiles on their faces. Adam goes so far as to wink and nod at me. I'm not a mind reader, but I know what they are thinking. I don't acknowledge it. I don't want this to be a thing – it _can't_ be a thing.

x

Everyone gathers at the bullpen and Erin shows up freshly showered, her wet hair falling over her shoulders, and a rosy blush tinges her cheeks. Hank recaps the run and implements improvements where needed. They discuss the perimeter of the reservoir and how to better surveil it. They also discuss preemptive measures should things go sideways. I barely digest any of it because my mind is thinking of the girl chewing on the edge of her pen. I watch her face frown in concentration as Hank flicks through the pages of a notebook.

"This task comes with a great amount of responsibility," Hanks's final words grab my attention. He pauses to let it sink in before saying "There is no room for error."

Everyone is silent. There is an atmosphere of seriousness, heavy-headedness and responsibility.

"Be ready." Hank looks at every person in the room. "We roll out in a week."

Everyone disbands from the bullpen and Erin and I are the only ones left. She walks up to me, close enough for my body to feel that soft electric energy she radiates. It pricks my skin in the best way.

"So, there is this place I didn't show you on the tour," she begins. Her voice is playful, flirty even. She looks so happy that I'm hit with another wave of guilt. "It's my favorite place. We can grab some food from the kitchen on our way there and I can pick you brain."

"How about we do it here?" I offer, wanting to keep this as professional as possible so I can keep my distance.

Her face falls, her eyes lose their spark, but she quickly recovers. "C'mon, you don't want to miss out on the view," she insists. "I won't keep you long," she adds, looking at me with pleading eyes. She wants me to see this place, I can tell. I'm wrenched in two – pulled into two different directions. Logic tells me to say no, that it's dangerous. But my heart wants to give this girl anything she wants.

"Okay," I hear myself say. "Where to?"

"Follow me," she says with a huge smile from ear to ear, and her signature dimples on full display.

I can't tell what's right or wrong when I'm around her because what's wrong feels so right and what's right feels so wrong.

x

I follow her like a lost puppy. We swing by the kitchen and she is able to charm her way into grabbing a whole pizza pie. The aroma wafting up from the tray she is carrying is making my stomach growl. We take the stairs up to the top floor and in a hidden room Erin pulls a latch and a ladder slides down.

"Rooftop," she says, then starts climbing up.

I scramble up the ladder and instantly feel the warm breeze curl around us. The air smells almost clean, with just a faint odor of carbon monoxide and charcoal smoke. The sky is clear and even the lights from all around the Refuge can't totally kill the stars high above. This place is pretty awesome.

"Here," Erin says, gesturing to a set of chairs. I watch her take a seat and pull a pizza slice from the box. The crust is soft, and cheese drips on her pants. "Dig in."

I take a seat and pull a slice, dripping with sauce and cheese. "I can't believe you guys serve pizza for dinner here."

"Only on Fridays," she says. "It's like a special treat. Everything else is pretty bland."

I take a bite and I have to force myself not to shovel it down all at once. "Mmmm. It's so good!" I groan.

Erin looks at me and laughs.

 _Laughs_.

It's the best sound I've ever heard.

"It's not bad," she says.

"I can't remember the last time I had pizza," I say.

She grins at me through the darkness. "What kinds of food did you eat in the city?" She asks timidly.

"Mostly carbohydrates. Some protein." To be honest I don't really know what was in the daily concoctions I was given at the Aedes.

"Not much different from here," she concludes and I nod.

We continue to eat in silence, while we gaze wide-eyed at the clear sky. I look at Erin and at this moment, she looks - dare I say it? - even more beautiful. Before the silence gets awkward, I pipe in, "So, what did you want to ask me?"

She grows pensive for a moment. "Why did you escape? I get that conditions might have been subpar, but why risk dying in the desert?"

Her question is not what I was expecting. Erin's eyes focus on mine as if inviting me in. I look at her and I want to tell her the truth - that I'm a donor. I want to tell her that for the past few years I've been imprisoned and treated like a lab rat. I open and close my mouth, trying to find the right words. "I was, uh, I…" I inhale a long breath. "It's not right, you know. What they do in there? I wanted no part in it," I tell her.

She nods. "That bad, uh?"

"Worse," I say.

I need to veer this line of questioning elsewhere. I don't' know if I can't keep myself from telling her the truth. "So, were you able to climb inside the pipe?"

Erin purses her lips, for sure noticing the abrupt change in subject. I bet she wants to pry a little deeper, but to my relief she doesn't. "Yes. I crawled all the way to the main drain. I can easily fit through the grates." She grins. "Now I just have to find a way inside."

I nod. Then unexpectedly her finger grazes across my cheek and her touch causes me to flinch. She apologetically holds up her finger to show me the red sauce she just wiped off. Without thinking, I take her hand and wipe it on my shirt.

 _Big mistake_.

As soon as my fingers touch hers, all conscious thoughts get wiped away right along with the pizza sauce. My hand remains clasped on top of hers. I can't let go of her hand and I can't stop looking into her eyes. My pulse is racing; my heart feels like it's about to rip out of my chest. In this moment, absolutely nothing is happening, but then again _everything_ is happening. Every single second I silently look at her, holding onto her hand, erases my resolve to keep my distance. Every ounce of energy I've put into doing the right thing seems to have been all in vain.

"Jay," she whispers without breaking her gaze. The way my name flows from her lips makes my pulse go haywire. She strokes her thumb ever so slightly across my hand – a movement she may not even been aware of, but one I feel all the way to my core. "Everything okay?"

"Y-Yes," I tell her. I release my fingers one by one from her hand with every intention to pull away. Instead, my fingers trail past her wrist and slowly graze up the length of her arm. Erin inhales a sharp breath and meets my eyes. Bits of light reflect inside them. Her gaze holds mine, almost daring me to say more, to do more. My eyes drifts to her mouth. Her pink lips are soft and slightly parted. God, I want to kiss her, desperately. But I can't, because I know how I'll feel once I do, and there won't be any turning back.

I need to stop. I need to pull back, but my willpower and my heart are suddenly at war.

I'm hoping she pushes me away. But she doesn't. Instead she looks at me with hope in her eyes, and I want nothing more than to perpetuate whatever it is she's feeling right now. But somehow I find the strength to tear myself away from her, standing up and taking two steps back. I squeeze my eyes shut, giving myself a minute to regroup. I feel her inching closer to me. I open my eyes and there's a frown creasing on her forehead.

"I-I should probably head back," I tell as a way of explanation. Somehow doing the right thing here seems completely and utterly _wrong._

"Yeah, you're probably right," she says, though her eyes are searching my face for the reason I'm currently having an internal meltdown. It's there. "I'm scavenging tomorrow. I guess I should turn in too."

"Yeah," I nod and use whatever ounce of willpower I have left to turn and walk away. I hear her calling my name. I don't dare look back to see what I'm doing to her right now.

I get back to my room and I shut the door behind me and lean against it. I rub my hands over my face and attempt to calm myself down. I can't do this to her. I can't complicate her life. I can't be selfish - not with her.

 _Please, forgive me._ I throw the thought out into the silence of my room and hope that somehow the universe delivers it to her mind, allows her to understand that I'm doing this to save her from a train wreck I can't control.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Again, it's always nice to read your feedback. Cheers!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for your kind reviews. Here's a new chapter for ya!**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Erin's POV**

It's way too early. I forgot to close the blinds last night before I went to bed, so the bright morning sun is shining into my room like an unwanted intruder, illuminating the entire space with too much cheerful light. Groaning, I roll over and pull one of my pillows along with me, covering my head and blocking the light. I just want to go back to sleep, though I doubt that's going to happen. All I can think about is Jay's fingers brushing against my arm, like is was no big deal. And it wasn't that big deal in the grand scheme of _touching_ \- but it threw me for a complete loop. I was startled at first and didn't know how to react. I didn't react, period. I remained completely still as my heart somersaulted. I can still feel the shock that ran through my whole body as his fingers seemingly burned a hole through my skin.

When he pulled away seconds later, I had to fight the disappointment that threatened to overwhelm me. I was consumed by him in ways I can't explain, and this motion is really flipping me out. I think he feels the same pull I feel. But it seems Jay's built a wall around himself. And while he thinks he's locking out at least some of the bad, some of the pain, there are other things he's locking out too. The good things.

I let these thoughts eat me up inside until I can't stand it anymore and leap out of bed, taking a shower and getting ready for the day. I head to the bullpen and everyone (except Jay) is already there mingling about. I nod hello, and hotfoot to the bulletin board to see the map for all scavenging posts.

"I did this whole perimeter last week," Antonio's voice sounds from behind me. "I got as far as Sugar Grove, I think. Maybe you can follow route 30 east," he suggests.

"I've gone East on 30," Jules chimes in, hearing our conversation. "Nothing there either. Maybe you can go south on 47."

I nod. That could take a couple of days. Maybe it will give me enough time away to clear my head. "Sounds like a plan," I tell them.

"Hopefully you'll have better luck than I did." The woeful undertone on Antonio's voice suggests that supplies are becoming few and far between.

Hank enters the bullpen and not long after that, Jay arrives. I try not to look directly at him, but my eyes drifts to him of their own accord. He is wearing black jeans and a blue flannel shirt that serves to make his eyes appear even more blue. He smiles, but it is tight, restrained, as if he is holding something back from me, something he doesn't want me to see. I shake my head, as if that might clear my thoughts. It doesn't.

Hank quickly debriefs us on the daily happenings and sends us on our way. I begin to head to the loading dock when Hank calls me back.

"Where are you headed today?" He asks.

"Antonio had no luck west. And Jules went east on route 30. So, I'm headed south on 47."

"You know," he begins. "Maybe Halstead can go with you. You can show him the ropes."

Before I even have a chance to say anything, Jay beats me to the punch, "I don't think that's a good idea."

My head snaps in Jay's direction. A ball of confusion forms in my chest. Granted, I don't think it's a good idea either, but what's his reasoning?

"Why not?" Hank asks, his brow furrowing at Jay.

The brightness in Jay's face dims. He clears his throat, and his eyes go dark. "I, um, I don't know if we can, um, work well together," Jay spits out.

His words hurt like a dagger plunged into my gut. I hold my tongue not to bite back, because I don't want him thinking his words had an effect on me, that they did not strike bone and leave my breath uncertain in my chest.

"Well, this will be a good way to learn to work together," Hank says nonchalantly and disappears into his office.

We stand, looking at each other, saying nothing. But it is the kind of nothing that says everything. In his eyes, there is an anguish that perhaps equal to mine, but quite different.

I stare him down squaring my shoulders in an attempt to make my five-foot-five frame look bigger. "We have to start packing if we want to leave soon," I tell him curtly.

"Erin-"

The way he says my name makes something inside of me tighten. i ignore it. "You can borrow Antonio's pack. Grab whatever supplies you think you'll need," I say and my feet turn to take me down to the loading dock. I don't look back. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes, I force calm into myself, pushing the rage aside, filling myself with beige numbness. _I don't know if we can work well together._ His words echo in my ears and I feel an ache settling in the pit of my stomach that only he can cause. I don't know why I'm this irritated, or angry or… I hate trying to put my feelings into words.

Minutes later Jay graces me with his presence, walking about the loading dock filling his pack. Though I'm not looking at him, I can feel his eyes burn me, burn my skin, as if I were paper and he was fire. My heart hammers against my ribs like a rabid animal. I hate this is how I react to him. I hate how he makes me feel. I don't want to feel like this, like I have no control over my own body.

"Look Erin, I didn't mean-"

"You ready? We should head out," I say with an intentional bite to my voice.

He nods silently and follows me out.

This anger I'm feeling right now? Yeah, I want to nurture it. For the first time since Jay arrived, I feel in control over my emotions.

x

The sun is blinding and the heat blistering despite the early hour. I pull out my map and try to figure out the best route as we head south. We walk wordlessly for hours at a time, and the only time he speaks is if it's to warn me of something – a snake, a slippery slope, or a car approaching. I sneak a peek at him once in a while and his blue eyes hold none of their former sparkle, and his lips never turn up in a smile.

By mid-afternoon, we top a hill and freeze. A silhouette of a town – or what was once a town – stretched out at the bottom. Columns of black smoke rise from within, casting a deathly pall over the skyline. I look at the map, then study the sun and its direction in relation to our location.

"Are we checking it out?" Jay asks.

I ignore his question and step forward towards the bottom of the hill. Rushing down in the open doesn't seem like the best idea, so I stick to shuffling behind large boulders. It takes a while, but we finally come to what looks like an entry point. There is a rusted car parked at one end, stripped of its tires and mostly everything else. Two men sit on the hood – vagrants probably.

"We can easily get past them," Jay notes.

"Don't want to make a scene. We can go back the other way." I try to make my voice sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Or we could follow that path." Jay nods to what appears to be a path leading through a rocky area. It's clearly beat down, as if it's used regularly. It would keep us hidden from drifters, and we might be able to walk through it without being spotted.

I don't want agree with him, but it's a good idea. "Okay."

We walk through the rocks quietly. The landscape is barren - featureless - and lined with dead trees. We stick to the warped path and we've almost reached the other side when I trip over a large stone and tumble to the thorny ground.

"Are you okay?" Jay squats down beside me to help me up. He is so close, his presence blocking out everything. He brushes the hair from my face and our eyes meet, maybe for the first time since this morning. I want to hold on to my anger but my heart responds to him. It beats a bit faster. I'm not ready to forget what he said. I'm not ready to feel what I'm feeling. But he's looking up at me with his sweet blue eyes and I can feel myself thawing a little.

"I think so," I tell him stretching my foot. To my relief, nothing seems wrong. I know that it's not broken, and I'm sure that there is not even a serious sprain - just a bit of a twist. "I Just twisted my ankle a bit."

He lifts my foot with gentle firmness and removes my boot.

"It's fine –"

"-Let's be sure." Carefully he begins to feel my injured ankle, his touch is warm and, dare I say, comforting? "Nothing broken." He squeezes. "Does this hurt?"

It does –slightly, though not enough to make me wince. "No," I lie.

Jay frowns at me, seeing through me probably. Apparently I no longer have a poker face. He places the boot back on my foot, leaving the laces loose. "Ready?" He asks.

I frown, "For wha-"

He pulls me up and snakes one of my arms around his neck, supporting me. The suddenness and his proximity startles me. Ah-shit, shit. My breath catches as the electric charge of his touch travels down my spine.

"I want to make sure you don't aggravate it," He reasons.

I should tell him I don't need his help - that I'm fine, but my brain is hazy and my foot is aching.

We continue to buddy-walk our way down the rocky path until we reach a breach without anyone standing guard. We side step ruble and debris, ignoring the petrified copses lying the way. We pass by abandoned stores, every one picked clean. Empty shelves, smashed windows. Looted. Burned. We walk pass them, knowing already that we'll find nothing.

We come to a store, an old fashioned sign squeaks on rusted hinges in the breeze. We step inside. Like all others, it has been cleaned out. Shoe racks and empty boxes strew over the floor. The whole place reeks of dead, musty air.

Jay removes my arm from around his neck and I feel suddenly cold, even though it is probably one hundred degrees in here.

"How is it?" He nods towards my foot.

I take a few steps. Bounce a bit on it, I feel a slight pinch, but it's not bad. "Okay," I tell him,

He nods and begins looking around. Every shelf is empty. He checks each one, poking around in the dark corner with his fingers, but finds nothing except dust. I follow him to the back of the store and spot a freezer. I open it, check inside. Empty – save for a small icebox. The lid stuck fast with mildew and gunk. I don't dare pry it open.

"Nothing," I tell him.

"Maybe we can salvage the compressor," Jay tells me a bit unsure. "Spare parts?"

"Sure," I shrug and watch him take the fridge apart. He yanks the compressor out and looks at it before he chucks it on the ground with a loud bang. "It's shot."

We go back outside and continue to scavenge the surrounding buildings. Many of the storefronts are still largely intact but patched up with salvaged materials. The asphalt is warped and cracked, and the parking meters are bent and smashed. We only find small items: batteries, light-bulbs, blankets, old clothes, and a few expired cans of food.

We are walking along the concrete sidewalk when Jay stops, his senses seemly heightened and on alert.

"What's up?" I ask.

He pulls me back and behind him.

"I can smell road scum a mile off," he announces to the empty space. His voice echoes in the void.

Before I can say anything, three bandits emerge from the hedgerow, brandishing their weapons – mostly makeshift knives. I notice they are dressed in little more than rags. They are filthy - their stench overpowering.

I reach for my gun, but Jay stops me. "Don't waste your bullets," he says.

Then two more pathetic armed men drops from hiding, surrounding us.

"They are vagrants," I whisper. "We don't have time for this."

The leader (I assume), looks me up and down lustfully, though his left eye is missing and there is just a dark empty socket. He licks his lips, "This one looks fresh."

I see Jay clench his hands into fists in my periphery. "Not worth it," I remind him, but it seems he's been catapulted into a whole new dimention.

The leader glares at Jay and says, "What you got there in those packs?"

"Nothing," Jay says. His voice steady and calm.

"Yeah, that's what they all say. How about y'all take it off real slow and tip it out so we can take a look."

"They have guns," one of the men observes.

"They never loaded. Ain't that right?" The leader looks us up and down. "Open the fucking packs or die."

"We can't do that," Jay says.

"We'll do it for you. We can get it off real easy when we hack your fucking arms off."

I watch Jay's face remain perfectly calm, and though he speaks with soft, even tones, there is something formidable about his voice. "If I were you, I would turn around and not look back."

There's a beat and no one moves. All eyes are on Jay – all regarding him with guarded interest.

"I don't know who you think you are," the leader spits back. "Now take off the pack and set it on the ground."

Jay doesn't move, doesn't say a word. The leader takes a step forward and shoves him in the shoulder. "You fucking listening to me?"

"Oh, I heard you," Jay says looking at the spot where the man touched him. "Now, you lay your hand on me again-"

"-You'll what? All right, I had just about enough of this shit..." He lunges forwards, grabs the shoulder strap of Jay's pack.

In one swift move, Jay spins his arm around and I can hear the bones crack, just like the dead branches on a tree. Jay delivers blow after blow and finally pins him on the broken, hot asphalt. A quiet whimper escapes his lips. His face goes pale, blood draining from it. The other men stagger backward nervously.

"What you standin' around for? Get'em," The leader mumbles.

If I had blinked, I would've missed it. Jay spins and ducts, serving punches and deft kicks left and right. A blur, too fast to follow. But it's clear he has an inhuman level of skill. It's over in moments. The bandits lay out cold on the road. Blood pools out onto the asphalt.

He looks back at me. The frown on his brow vanishes and he smiles, his eyes locking onto mine. He's looking pretty proud right now.

"My hero," I intone mockingly with a hand on my heart. "One bullet would have done the job."

"A waste of a bullet."

I shake my head. "C'mon," I signal for us to keep moving. The sun is moving behind the horizon, throwing orange, pink, and red into the sky. it will be dark soon. We have to find somewhere safe to stay the night. "We need to find shelter."

"I saw a manhole a mile back," Jay says. When I frown he goes on. "It's the safest place to hide. No one looks inside manholes."

He is not wrong. I follow him back and watch him pry the top off the manhole. Moments later we are shimmying down a rusted, smelly ladder. Jay goes first, and his feet make a soft splash when it hits the bottom.

"It's safe. Come on down."

I hit the bottom and darkness surround us. I pull out my little flashlight but it's not powerful enough. As if reading my thoughts Jay says, "These old tunnels used to have electricity inside them. Artificial lighting line the walls at intervals. I bet there's still power somewhere."

I shiver in the dark. "So, how do you find it?"

A high-pitched groan grates the air, and I turn to find Jay wrestling with an old metal door. He slips inside before I can ask what he's doing, and a few minutes later there is light. We walk for a few minutes in silence, but it's not uncomfortable like it has been. The majority of my pent-up anger seems to have evaporated with the heat. But I still want to pull myself together and forget about Jay for a little while.

Easier said than done since he is taking soft steps beside me, and when I reach out for balance, he takes my hand and I pretend not to notice or care that my heart just skipped a beat.

When a small wooden platform comes into view, Jay let's go of my hand and tests it by pushing down on it. "We can stay here for the night," he says shrugging off his backpack. He climbs on top and offers me a hand and pulls me up.

I settle on the opposite side, as far away from him as possible on this small platform. I dig into my bag, as he does, and pull out a few protein bars. We eat in silence for a few moments, listening to the sounds of water trickling down somewhere. Finally, Jay clears his throat, grabbing my attention. I can once again feel his gaze burning into the side of my face.

"What are we trying to find?"

"Mainly fuel and food. If we find enough we call for backup and have patrol come pick it up."

"Why can't we just drive around?"

"It would call too much attention. If anyone finds us on foot, they won't ask too many questions. If they find us driving a car, they will assume we have supplies."

Jay digests my answer for a minute then asks, "Who decides who patrols?" In my peripheral vision I see him rip the wrapping of another protein bar. "Like, if I wanted to be a patrolman, who would I talk to?"

I blink at his abrupt change of subject. "Platt. She's in charge of all patrolmen." I take a bite off my protein bar. "Why? Do you want to be a patrolman?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I like intelligence."

Our conversation flows with such ease that I find myself sneaking glances in his direction while he talks. The air around us feels silent and calm, like we're surrounded by a bubble, cut off from the rest of the world so it's just the two of us. We mainly stick to chatting about the refuge – all superfluous, nothing too in depth. I watch his lips move and I can't help but imagine what it would be like to kiss him. Then I catch myself and rid my mind of the thought. Keeping in mind that not twenty-four hours earlier I wanted to choke him.

Then the question that's been on the tip of my tongue spills from my lips before I can think better of it. "How come you told Hank you didn't think we would work well together?"

A shrug greets my question. "I um…" His eyes stare unseeingly at the ceiling. "I don't know."

"If you have a problem with me, just say it."

Jay doesn't look at me. "I don't have a problem with you, quite the contrary," he adds the last bit almost under his breath.

"I don't' get it then. Help me understand, Jay."

I wait for the shutters to come down behind his eyes, for the distance between us to grow as he sidesteps the question. But he doesn't. Instead, he sighs. His forehead creases a little. "I like you," he whispers as if he's been trying to say it this whole time. "And I don't want to hurt you."

My entire world stops spinning; I'm completely stunned by his confession. I honestly never thought he would say those words. I don't know what to do with them. So I give him the only response I'm able to. "You can't hurt me," I say quietly, surprising myself.

Jay doesn't respond. He gives me a tight lip smile and inches towards me. I feel his hand curl beneath my chin to lift my gaze up to meet his. The soft caress of his fingertips tickle my jawline as his deep, ocean-blue eyes churn with emotions I'd never expected to see. He slowly inches even nearer and leans in closer to my face, his lips only millimeters from mine.

I don't know if it's the moment, his word, his proximity, or my fizzing emotions but it all collides into a wrecking ball of irrationality. I don't wait, my body just reacts. I close the small distance between us and mold my lips against his. After a second's hesitation, he returns the kiss. His lips open slightly as his warm, wet tongue graze my bottom lip. Urging my mouth open, he kisses me, slowly, languidly, his tongue touching mine so lightly that it sends electric sparks tingling throughout my entire body. I reach up and wind my arms around his neck. They seem natural in that position, so I leave them there. My body tingles and my heart is pounding so hard that I cannot think straight. I feel like I'm on fire, but in the best way.

My brain starts to question whether or not this is a good idea, but my body already made the decision. My hands find the contours of Jay's chest, resting them where I can feel a steady thumping that matches my own hammering heartbeat.

Time suddenly loses all meaning as the world encompasses only me and him. But then I feel his muscles tense underneath my fingertips. Mid-kiss, Jay pulls back and sits up straighter - almost involuntarily - putting distance between us. His eyes close shut and through his tensed jaw, he manages to squeeze out, "You should get some shuteye. I'll keep watch."

I can't stop myself from flinching at his words, can't stop the sting from seeping into my soul, either. A whole slew of new emotions swamps me. They hit like a slap in the face, knocking the wind out of me – hurt and rejection. I stiffen beside him. My throat closes up with such a hard knot, but I forced myself to say, "Okay."

I want him to wrap his arms around me, and I want to lean into him, place my cheek against his chest so that I can hear once again the steady _thump-thump_ of his heartbeat. But his walls are back up and too high to be breached. I tear my gaze away. I can't look at him any longer.

I feel a loss.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. Your input is always welcomed. Cheers!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for your kind reviews. It's been such a joy to write something that is different, and still have you awesome readers go along with me. Heart full.**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Jay's POV**

Parting my lips from Erin's was the hardest thing I've ever done.

There was a moment right before we kissed where we just looked at each other. Communication flowed freely – our desires expressing without words. And when her lips touched mine, I was gone. Her scent, a powdery sweetness with an underlying hint of smoke teased my nose. It reverberated through me, straight to my groin. Her mouth tasted warm and sweet. _Sweet._ This one word keeps circling in my mind. Wonderfully, incredibly sweet. Then I got a little greedy – selfish even. I can't help it. I want what she is giving and _more._ It took every bit of my willpower to pull away from her.

What in God's name was I thinking? Unfortunately, the answer comes all too quickly. I wasn't thinking. I have no willpower when it comes to Erin.

We didn't talk much the following morning. Erin looked more than angry with me; she looked hurt, and the betrayal written all over her face got to me. I had to fight back the self-loathing. We went about our route without any mention of what had happened. Later, I tried to apologize to her, but she wasn't having any of it. She was curt and abrupt. I selfishly wanted her to talk to me, but it was apparent she was not going to. As high as I built my walls, Erin's were built much higher, enforced with barbed wire that prickle my skin, and not in a good way.

I should be happy. I got that distance I wanted. _I don't need to worry about her safety anymore,_ I tell myself bitterly. I try to tell myself that this is a good thing. That I should be overjoyed. But my brain won't compute. I should feel relief, but I don't. I should feel euphoria, but I don't. All I feel is emptiness.

At one point, on our way back to the Refuge, we stopped to take a break and I watched her lean against a dead tree and pour water over her neck. She looked absolutely miserable and seeing her hurting almost crumbled my resolve. I knew her ankle was bothering her (she tried but failed to hide her limp), and I Just wanted to go to her and pull her to me. I wanted to tell her _everything –_ make her understand. I'm not a jackass. But I left her alone instead, because aside from the truth, I didn't know if words strung in sentences could mend whatever I had broken.

When we arrived safely at the Refuge, the first words out of Erin's mouth, after almost a 24-hour stretch of silence were, "You were right. We don't work well together."

As I opened my mouth to speak, object, argue, she interrupted me, "I get it." I saw the muscle on her jaw pulse from her gritted teeth as she tried to contain her emotions. As she tried to rationalize my rejection and hide the hurt I saw flash in her eyes. "No explanation needed."

Then she turned on her heels and walked away.

Thing is, she doesn't get it. Not. At. All.

It's been two days since we've returned and the faint taste of her lips still lingers in my mouth. Her scent still invades my nose and my mind, even though I've barely seen her since. At first I thought the distance would help. I would forget all about the kiss, about her, and this shit feeling would disappear. But it doesn't. It only makes me want her more.

x

The next mission to the Aedes is approaching and the unit is working tirelessly to insure its success. The goal is to obtain a hard copy of the master blueprint. We are currently going by what I remember (and only places I had access to). If we obtain the blueprint, we can pinpoint weak points and use it to our advantage. The Aedes has to be taken down. The oppression and manipulation the has governed the past decade needs to end. Blood can't be the currency. If we succeed, we show other factions that it is possible. The Refuge can be possible everywhere.

I'm sitting in the cafeteria (three days after we returned - not that I'm counting), looking over my drawn-up blueprint – trying to remember doors and crawl spaces that I might have overlooked. I spent nearly five years within those walls, and I have most of the hallways and rooms memorized. But there was only a handful of times that I was brought to the outside, thus the exit path is buried somewhere deep in my head.

I'm in deep thought, semi-listening to the clatter in the kitchen, when suddenly without a word of warning, a siren starts shrieking. I jump out of my skin as the horn, high and very loud, blares into my ears. I look around and see people running into the hallways, screaming, away from everybody else. I venture out into the hallway and try to ask what's going on, but everyone is in full panic mode.

Then a patrolmen whizzes by.

"Hey!" I say, running after him. "Stop!" But he continues striding down the hall. I leap in front of him, preventing him from going anywhere. He halts and stares at me. "What's going on?" I ask.

"Someone's infected," he tells me hastily.

A cold chill runs down my spine. "W-Where? Who?"

"Just go to your room until you hear that it's safe to come out." He sidesteps me and runs past the elevators and continue to the door with the stairs.

I pick up my pace, pushing my way through the chaos, and go to the bullpen, but the doors are locked. I head down to the infirmary, but the doors are locked as well – probably a safety provision. I think quickly on my feet and realize the loading dock is probably not incorporated in the lockdown system, since it looked like it was built after the fact.

I head down and that's where I find Hank leaning over a lifeless body, bleeding freely from everywhere –mouth, eyes, ears, nose. I look closer and it's Jules. I watch several waves of shudders roll through her body until it suddenly stills. This scene never loses any of its impact, no matter how many times I've witnessed it. I can see Hank started a line from his arm to hers, but she's far too gone, and his attempt at saving her is an absolute loss.

Still, I roll up my sleeve and start toward him, but Hank raises a hand to stop me.

He heaves a heavy sigh. "She's gone."

We stare at each other for a moment, Hank's expression is tinged with something that looks like sorrow, before he composes his features into something more stoic.

Then there is a frantic pounding on the door to the loading dock. I look back and see Erin pushing her way through. She looks desperate as she rushes in. Tears are welling in her eyes and as one spills onto her cheek, she swipes it away with such force it sends her honey hair swinging in an arc back over her shoulder. I get a whiff of her scent.

"Jules?" Her lips tremble as she chokes her name out.

"Erin, stay back," Hank warns.

Erin chokes on her tears and lunges towards the body. I jump to hold her back, but I underestimate her strength and she spins out of my grasp. I twist her back and pull her close this time. She struggles, trying to claw her way out. I secure my arm tightly around her to steady her.

"I need to see her," she gasps, her voice a strangled croak. Her breaths come in small, gusting pants, and I realize I'm a little breathless from the effort too.

"You can't go there," I tell her, pulling her farther back. "It's not safe."

"Hank do something, please?" She pleas.

"She's gone," Hank mutters. "She was gone before I got to her."

Erin's hands reach to push me away, but when they meet my chest, they seem to lose much of their strength. Her legs begin to shake and she starts to lose her balance, and then her entire body goes limp in my grip. If I let go, she will most certainly plummet to the floor.

Then Antonio is there. His eyes also bulged with tears and his face pale from the pain of seeing Jule's lifeless body on the ground. His right hand goes frantically through his hair. "God, Jules," he murmurs under his breath.

"C'mon," I begin dragging Erin out. "We shouldn't be here."

There is no fight in her. I hug her tightly, pressing the side of her head against my chest, feeling her tears on my skin. A lump in my throat grows large.

We reach the hallway and Erin pushes me away with the hand trapped between us. "Let me go."

"Erin-"

"Let me go," she bites out, giving me a full-body push. "Now, Jay."

"Erin-" I insist. This time her name comes out breathlessly, as emotions I don't want to name splinter through me. I continue looking at her, but do not loosen my grip.

"Jay," she says through tight lips. "Let. Go."

I give her arm a gentle squeeze, and release her.

Erin stomps up a set of stairs. I don't follow.

Hank banishes everyone, but I come back and help him burn the body and disinfect wherever blood has touched. We work silently. There are no words. Nothing really to discuss, nothing one can say to make it any better. The air feels heavy, like there is a lot of dust in it, and filled with great sorrow—deep, deep sorrow.

"Do we know how it happen?" I ask tentatively.

"No," Hank shakes his head. "She went out scavenging this morning. No distress call came through. The lookout was the one that spotted her approaching covered in blood. By the time I was notified, she had already bled out." He shakes his head. "I don't even know if I was her blood type."

"I could've helped," I tell him.

"I don't think there was anything anyone could've done," Hank admits. "She had already lost too much blood."

"I'm willing to help anyone here," I assure him. "If this happens again, don't hesitant to come find me."

Hanks nods his head appreciatively. A silent acknowledgement passes between us. Hank gets it. There is a strange comfort in knowing that I'm not obligated to donate my blood. But like Hank, I'm willing to do it for to save anyone here. This is how it should always be.

x

The lockdown is lifted. Despite the air being charged with a solemn reverence, people begin to return to their regular activities. I look for Erin, but I can't find her anywhere. We have a damage control meeting and she's a no show. She's also not in her room, and she skips dinner too. It's an hour later and I'm walking towards the only place I know she will be. I'm probably the last person she wants to see, but I'm going there anyways. I need to make sure she is safe.

I reach the small opening to the roof and place my hand on the brass metal handle and turn it; the latch easily gives in and I slowly open the door.

I climb my way up to the roof and when I get here, I find her looking out at the dark horizon, a shining flask in hand. She sits on the edge of the roof, her feet dangling, but perfectly still. There is a soft bluish light on her face, coming from the moon up above us. I start to open my mouth - apology ready at the tip of my tongue - but then I take a closer look and realize Erin hasn't noticed me. In fact, she's just starting off into space.

I suppose Erin is just trying to digest it all - attempting to come to terms with losing a family member. I move to get a closer look at her and what I see in Erin's face causes my chest to tighten. She looks empty and despondent. I take a few steps closer, standing only a few feet away; she should be able to see me. But judging by the far-off look on her face, she doesn't even know I'm here.

I know I'm about to do something stupid. I should leave her alone, because while I want to help her, I'm also trying to bury my feelings for her. My motives aren't innocent, I know that. What she needs right now is a friend, and yes, I can be a friend, but can I stop there? After what happened merely three days ago, I don't think I can.

In the end, I tell myself that my heart is in the right place.

"Thought I would find you here," I say as even and as softly as I can – not to startle her.

Erin doesn't start. She remains motionless. Her gaze doesn't waver. She continues to look ahead, her eyes focused on some faraway nothing when she says, "Why are you here?" Her words are slurred and bitter. "Did Hank sent you to find me? You can tell him I'm feeling grrreeeat."

"Hank didn't send me. _I_ wanted to see if you're okay," I tell her honestly.

"I'm fine, everything s'fine." Her words blend together. Her voice also seems too high-pitched – almost squeaky. She takes a sip from the flask. "You can leave. It's what you'll do anyways." She states the last bit cynically under her breath.

A strange heat creeps up my neck, making my face burn. _Guilt_. That's what this is. I've had plenty of reason to feel like this, but her words make it curdle even more inside of me. Despite it, I stay put.

"Erin-"

She turns to look at me. Tears spill down her cheeks, and one look in her eyes tells me she is beyond words. Nothing I can say will pull her out of the void she's in. So instead, I take a seat next to her.

"Don't you have somethin' better to do," she asks, a bite in her voice.

"No," I shake my head. Then I tell her, "I know there is nothing that I can say that can make you feel any better. I know that no matter what I say, it won't have any effect on you. You don't have to even look at me, but I'm just going to keep you company."

She doesn't respond – no fight left in her I presume. She just sighs a bit annoyed.

We sit in silence. I don't know how long, though it is long enough for the air between us to become comfortable. Long enough for my pounding heart to ease its pace. The only noises come from the occasional patrolmen walking the beat path below.

At some point I can't stand the stillness anymore, so I motion to her flask, "Can I have a sip?"

"Of this?" Her eyebrows raise in question.

"Yes," I nod.

She offers me the flask and I lift it to my lips and feel the liquid burn as it slides down my throat. It tastes like fruit and strong, _strong_ alcohol. I cringe and my face probably bares my displeasure. She looks at me amused, so I get ready for her knock-back.

"Too strong?" she asks.

I smile slightly, though still cringing, and nod. "Do I want to know what's in this?"

"Nope." She shakes her head.

I take another sip, letting the liquid erode my esophagus once again, though this time it lands softly in my stomach and radiates warmth to my fingers and toes. Erin smiles, though it doesn't reach her ears, nor does the small delves in her cheeks appear.

"It's good," I say. I hand her the flask and she takes another large gulp.

"I haven't had a drink in…." I can see the cogs in her head turning, then, "…longer than I can remember." She extends me the flask once more and I take another swig. "I used to drink to forget, but then I started shooting up. Made my life bearable."

I don't say anything – this is probably information she wouldn't have offered if it was not for the liquid courage.

"If it wasn't for Hank, I would be six-feet under by now." Her words are slurred, but her eyes are focused.

"Where were you before coming here?" I ask, not actually expecting her to answer.

She smiles sadly, tucking her shoulder up in a half shrug. "Everywhere, I guess. My mom, she um…" She takes another long pull from the flask. "She provided _services_ to men. So we never –" She stops all of a sudden, as if she's said too much. "Never mind."

Erin was a drifter.

"Is your mom still around?" I try to keep my voice as even and as emotionless as possible, though it isn't easy.

"Nah," she shakes her head. "Hank tried to help her, but she wants nothing do to him … or me." She sounds a little hurt. Of course, this is her mother she is talking about. I understand this too well.

"My dad blamed me for everything bad that happened in our family," I say. It isn't the alcohol that makes me say it. I just want her to know.

I see the brow that was furrowed become a little less furrowed and her tight lips and jaw eases a bit and softens, I think. "Why?" She asks.

I shrug. "He just needed someone to blame and I was an easy target."

Erin nods. A look of complete understanding falls on her face. She raises the flask, mocking a toast. "May we never turn out like our parents."

I will drink to that. I raise my empty hand and we take turns sipping from the flask. The liquid flows through my veins like a scalding hot liquid. I keep drinking until my vision turns hazy. God, I'd forgotten how good this feels. I'm at ease, like everything is fine. Deep inside I know it's all an illusion. But I'm basking on this feeling right now.

"Why are you so mysterious?" Erin asks bluntly. Her eyebrows come together and a small frown furrows her forehead. "What are you hiding?"

I'm taken aback by her sudden questions. I want to reply it with, _why do you think I'm hiding something._ But I don't. I can't because it might make her think too much about it. Or maybe I'm afraid I will tell her. "I'm not hiding anything," I lie.

Erin is silent. For some odd reason I feel that she knows it's not the truth.

Then, she turns her whole body towards me. "I'm just confused; you know? I can't read your signals. One moment you're hot, the next you're cold. You keep making me think one thing and then you end up going in a completely different direction." She takes a deep breath and says, "You kissed back."

Her voice is so quiet that I'm not immediately sure I heard right. But when she looks up, she's giving me a raw, aching look that says she's said something she shouldn't have. The moment that passes between us – is too raw.

 _Tell her the truth._ The thought flickers through my mind. But instead I say, "I don't want to confuse you. I'm sorry if I've made you feel this way. But," I pause. "We can't." The potent combination of disappointment and anger that flashes in her eyes cause my insides to flip. "It's the only way to protect you," I add.

Erin chuckles low and even, a sarcastic amusement woven with bitterness. "Protect me from what? You got an STD?"

"No," I shake my head. "But I do I have a lot of baggage and I don't want to unload it on anyone, especially not on you."

"Maybe," she looks at me. Eyes clear as day. "It would be easier if you shared your load."

A fresh wave of longing crashes down on me. I circle my arm around her and touch my lips to her temple. The simple kiss I give her could be considered innocent had it not been for the fact that I'm lingering. The alcohol loosening my inhibitions. I don't think she even registers my lips on her – the alcohol dulling her senses too. I pull away because I still care enough to stay away. But when my arm fully disconnects from her, she turns to face me. I dare to look into her eyes.

"You're leaving?" Slurs out of Erin's mouth, though it's not a question - more of a statement.

"Let me walk you to your room?" I ask her.

She releases a small laugh. The alcohol tickling her in all the right places. "Sure. Mr. Protector."

We walk back to her room and I support her stumbling legs until she flops on top of the bed. A strange expression crosses Erin's face, and I sense something's wrong. Her face visibly pales, her eyes narrow, and every muscle tenses. I reach out to her, but she jerks away and places both hands on the bed to steady herself. Her eyes close, then her eyelids come open and she gives me a weird look, like she's going to be sick.

Then she nearly jumps out of the bed, and starts for the bedroom door but before she can make it there, she begins throwing up all over the floor. I Immediately go to her and she continues spilling the watery contents of her stomach until there is nothing left in her to throw up.

I hold her hair back and feel how hot and clammy her skin is. I lean over to her. "Are you okay?" I ask. Her eyes look sunken, and her breathing's rapid and shallow. "Hey?" I run my knuckles against her cheek when she stays silent.

Erin shakes her head and rubs a wrist over her forehead. "M'okay," she says, but her face still looks a bit green.

I lean in and brush a stray hair from her face. Making contact with her skin makes my heart beat wildly against my ribcage. "I'll clean up," I tell her, or maybe I only think it. The alcohol is making my head swim, making the edges of everything fuzzy. "You just go lay down on the bed, okay?"

Erin does as I say, muttering a shaky, "thank you."

I clean up the mess and decide to stay until I know she won't be sick again. I watch her reddened eyes close and her breathing even out as sleep takes her under. I think I sink into the chair next to her (or the floor?), for just a moment. I think I imagine Erin tugging at my arm and I sink into her bed. Then I feel the weight of her head on my chest. I dream of her sweet scent on my nose, like a little piece of her is still with me. I can see her honey strands fanning over my shirt. I lean in even closer, her hair tickling my nose, and I inhale. I have no idea if I'm dreaming, but it doesn't matter. My eyelids begin to feel heavy and I feel so comfortable that I fall into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. Your input is always welcomed. Cheers!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for your reviews. Last update before the Holiday break. Wishing you guys love, happiness, and a full belly! =)**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nada.**

* * *

 **Erin's POV**

My eyelids are closed but it's still so damn bright from the sunlight streaming into my room. I squeeze my eyes tighter to try to block it out, trying to clear the haze from my thoughts. I struggle to remember details from last night. How is it possible I drank enough I can't remember? I decide to snuggle farther into the comforter, not wanting to face reality just yet. Wanting to forgo the headache that will inevitable hit me full force the minute my body acknowledges it's awake. But the fog starts to dissipate, and a sick feeling in my stomach sets in, made worse by a stale smell clinging in the air.

I gulp for air through my mouth, but then I feel the bed move, just slightly, as if someone had sat down beside me. I Look to my left and there's someone in bed with me - someone warm and soft. I hear the slow even breathing against my ear, feel the light smattering of hair against my hand, and – wait a minute. It's Jay. He is in bed with me – what have I done?

Slowly my thoughts begin replaying snippets from last night.

Jules.

The roof.

Jay.

Speaking of which, Jay stirs himself awake and pushes himself up on his elbows. Even with his hair mussed, eyes heavy, and pillow creases running across his left cheek, the guy still looks good. His eyes narrow and a look of total confusion flashes across his face. He wipes the back of his hand against his mouth, then rubs the top of his head several times. He glances around for another moment or two, and suddenly notices me for the first time. Without warning, he jumps out of the bed as if he's been burned.

"I-I'm sorry," he apologizes and begins to pace, with an apparent intention to wear a hole on the floor. "I didn't mean to stay... I guess I drank - we drank - and I thought I had gone to my room, but…"

He is rambling. As I had anticipated, the headaches sets in, and I'm not ready to deal with him on top of everything else.

"Jay…" I say as calmly as I can manage. "You're making me dizzy with all this pacing," I tell him, pushing my palms against my eyes. I starting to feel like a powder keg of emotions that any little thing might cause to ignite. I'm not as stable. I feel like a mess. I feel weak and irrational. And vulnerable. And goddman it, I hate being vulnerable.

Jay stops pacing and looks straight at me. His shirt is askew, riding up slightly to show the perfect ridges of his stomach. "I-I didn't mean to stay over," he says. "I don't want to confuse you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I guess I fell asleep and-"

"Jay, it's fine. You don't need to explain anything. You can just go." The volume of my voice escalates as every part of me wants to expel a whole tide of my pent-up feeling out on him. He doesn't get to play hero. "Why are you still standing here? Go."

Jay doesn't move. He stands there with his hands deep in his pockets, unreadable look on his face.

I stand up on wobbly legs and my hand connects with his solid chest with a thud, and it's nowhere satisfying a feeling as I thought it would be. So I try again, and what pisses me off even more is that he stands there and takes it. He doesn't push back, doesn't try to grab my hands to stop me. He just stands there and accepts it.

"You need to go. I don't need you here," I say. I don't recognize myself or the strange shrill voice that comes from my mouth. The sound of a person slowly losing it. "Just go!"

I'm on the verge of hysteria when my eyes catch the sight of a mop and a bucket in the corner of the room. It's all very blurry but the memories rush back and I vaguely remember throwing up last night - explains the stench in the air. A panicky shock shoots straight through me.

Jay cleaned it up. Or tried to.

I close my eyes, but the alcohol-blurred details continue to play behind my eyelids like a slide show – Jay holding my hair, cleaning up the floor…What was I thinking? But I know I wasn't thinking at all. I was busy trying to drown my grief. I hate myself. I hate him for being… _him_. I'm so embarrassed I want to disappear. I can feel my face turning hot. It takes me a moment to realize what the burning feeling creeping over my face is.

Shame.

"I threw up last night, huh?" I drop my gaze. I can't look him in the eye.

"Yup."

In spite of his brief response, Jay sounds worried. I look up at him and his face is haggard. Tired. Makes my heart ache. I'm sure my humiliation is showing on my face because he asks, "Are you feeling okay?"

"I will be." I don't say anything else; I can't.

He nods and reaches for something deep in his pocket. He fishes out two white pills. "For the headache," he says and places them on my night stand. "I'm sorry for-"

I shake my head and hold up a hand, halting the words before they can leave his mouth. "Don't."

I should be the one apologizing.

Jay nods and his hand wraps around the door knob, but he stops. I think he wants say something – tell me something meaningless or comforting. But he decided against it and gives me a tight lip smile and slips out of my room.

I groan and fall back on the bed. I want to scream. Hugging a pillow to my chest, I close my eyes and try to remember what happened last night. But everything's fuzzy and unclear, but then I remember Jay. I remember what he said about his dad. I remember the melancholy tone in his voice, which probably mirrors mine when I talk about Bunny. I want to hate him. But it's impossible when he makes me want him. Everything I'm feeling is in such extremes right now that I feel like I'm going crazy.

x

I get to the bullpen and everyone's already there. Hank spins around, half circle, to face me, his forehead's furrowed and wrinkled. With narrow eyes he stares daggers at me. I bet he can see how hungover I look, what with my red tinged eyes, the dark half-moon just below them, and the weariness that's probably stamped all over my face. I probably look like I crawled out from a hole. I take a seat and listen to Hank explain the logistics of our next assignment to the Aedes. Apparently Jay's contact, Mouse, gave us the green-light.

"So he has the blueprint?" Antonio asks.

"Yes," Jay nods from where he is perched on his desk. He doesn't look a bit hungover. Though, I guess I had a head start. "He has the blueprint and other documents he thought we might be interested in," he adds.

"And he is just going to fork it over?" Adam asks skeptically. "This guy has nothing to gain and everything to lose."

"Mouse is solid," Jay says. His voice unwavering. "He wants to see the Aedes taken down just as much as we do. This is not a trap."

"So, how are we playing this?" Alvin asks.

Hank looks around, then straight at me. "My office."

With a nod I follow him and close the door behind me. "Listen, before you say anything-" I begin.

"Sit down." He says. There is a look of concern etched in his brow. "How are you feeling?"

 _How am I feeling?_ I try to wrap my head around how I feel, but I'm just not sure."I'm fine," I lie, trying to add as much conviction to my tone as I can.

Hank stares intently at me, eyeing me up and down. "Erin, I don't have to tell you how important this is. I don't have to tell you that we don't have a second shot. This is it." His head bobs up and down. "Things have to go right from the get go."

I nod. "Hank-"

"I have a plan," he cuts in. "But I need to know that I can count on you."

"Hank-"

"You been distracted lately. And from the looks of it, it seems you're back to your old habits."

A small gush of air escapes my lungs. A member of our team died last night. I know there's no time to mourn, but I expected a little more empathy. "I just needed a distraction from _everything_. I'm good now."

Hank shakes his head. When he speaks, his voice is solemn. "I need you to get your head straight so we can make sure what happen with Jules doesn't happen again." He scratches his thumb across his forehead. "This is not a dry run."

"I know," I tell him. "I'm good, Hank."

There's a beat before he says, "We leave tonight."

I spend the rest of the day hydrating and going over the blueprint Jay has drawn up. I look at the crawl spaces and try to memorize exactly where I need to go. It is actually a relief to be busy and to keep my mind occupied on things that doesn't have to do with my personal life. By nightfall I find myself at the loading dock, getting all our equipment ready. I go up to the bullpen and see that Jay and Hank are having a heated conversation in Hank's office. Jay's flailing arms and the gestures reveals how intense their disagreement is. If I were guessing, I'd say Hank is benching Jay yet again from going tonight.

I grab the files I need from my desk and return to the dock. I pull of my Glock 19 to clean it. Anything to keep my mind occupied. But it isn't long before I hear Jay's heavy footsteps descending the stairs. His demeanor is steel and quiet. A stark contrast from what I saw moments ago. I wonder how much of his life he spends masking his emotional state.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey."

"You alright?" He asks, approaching me.

"Okay. Headache is gone." I shrug. The fact that he still here, talking to me, concerned about me after what happened in the last 24 hours, makes the feelings I don't want to have for him real. "Hey, um," I say with a tentative smile. "I never thanked you properly for what you did last night. So, thank you."

Jay flashes me a quick smile, "No worries. It was very therapeutic."

"Cleaning up vomit?"

He smiles, amusement reaching those blue eyes of his. "Maybe not that part. But everything before."

I give him a tight lip smile, and wreck my brain to change the subject. "So I take it Hank is not letting you go, huh?" I ask, though I phrase it more like a statement.

Jay shakes his head. "No." His voice isn't angry in a way I expected to be. "He thinks I should also sit this one out."

"You know; Hank has his reasons. He is looking out for the team. If he thinks you should stay, then maybe it's what's best."

Jay nods. "Yeah." His piercing blue eyes following my every move. "You ready for tonight?"

"I am. It will be just like last time."

He lingers, watching me clean my gun. There is something in the air between us, something unsaid, though I have no idea what it is. Jay opens his mouth only to close it again. His jaw clenches, unclenches, clenches. A moment passes. Then another. And another, but he doesn't say anything. Unexpectedly, he pulls me into a hug. I tense instantly, griping the cotton of his shirt as I feel his breath, warm on my neck. My heart begins thudding beneath my shirt, so much so, that I'm sure he can feel it too.

"Be safe out there, okay?" His voice is deep, but soft – a whisper in my ear.

I nod. "Always."

x

We leave towards the Aedes and I make my go mind blank. I need to focus on this mission. The mood is somber. We all feel a heavy weight sagging on our shoulders. There's a lot riding on the success of this run. About a mile out, we reconvene and Hank goes over a few last minute details. Afterwards he asks, "Any questions?" When no one speaks up, Hank says, "Alright. Get to your positions. We do this for Jules."

Everyone nods and scatters.

Hank turns to me and asks, "How're you doing, kid?"

"Solid," I tell him and show him my steady hand.

As expected, everything goes smoothly. I navigate the pipes and reach the room where the exhaust system ends. I exit through a grate inside an empty room except for a filing cabinet. Mouse said he would tape a USB to the back of it. I search around in the dark and find the small device and tuck it inside my pocket.

As I cross back towards the exhaust pipe, I feel a blinding burst of pain at the base of my neck, and I'm knocked face first into the ground. Then I become aware of a sharp piercing pain on my thigh, and a heavy weight pressing against me. The searing pain spread through my legs and all the way to my toes. I push to get the weight off me, but I can't get up very far. I continue to struggle.

"There's no use struggling."

I feel a blow to the back of my head.

"You're not going anywhere."

However, I continue to fight, twisting. Trying to get the weight off me. Trying to stop the pain that's now spreading up my torso. All my extremities are now throbbing. I struggle and a fist connects to my jaw. I muffle my scream as the back of my head is being pushed, jamming my face further on the ground. I bend my neck as much as I can to find some air, as the full weight on me pins me down. I taste the salt of my sweat running down the side of my face.

I hear a radio beep, then, "I have the trespasser. Sector 7. Third floor. Virus administered."

My adrenaline is pumping and the words don't compute in my brain. I act without thought or hesitation. My fist slams into his face. In the seconds it takes him to recover, I glide from under his weight and come at him from the front, ramming my fist into his chest. He stumbles backwards, and I kick him in the stomach. He doesn't go down, although he is wobbly on his feet. I narrow my eyes at him, bring my knee up, and connect. His crumbling reaction is instantaneous. Shoving him aside, I yank the grate from the exhaust pipe and climb inside.

I crawl as fast as I can, but a flash of blinding pain fills me. An ache splinters through my abdomen and something warm and wet runs out of my nose and into my mouth. I taste copper. Blood. That guard got me better than I thought. I exhale heavily and continue to make my way out. It won't be long before they find him and a lockdown is initiated.

I finally get to the exit pipe, but my body is betraying me, falling apart. Dizziness sets in, nausea, and a crippling fatigue. I look down at my hands, pale and blue. Another gush of blood seeps out of my nose. I push myself out of the pipe and signal with my flash light. Hank is the first one to come for me. I plop clumsily down and the cold water seeps into my boots, but I find it helps distract me from the pain.

"I got it," I mumble. My words sound strangely garbled. I start to walk, but find that I can't.

"Oh my God. Erin, what happened?" Hank asks, his eyes scanning me up and down. "What's all this blood?"

"A guard. He saw me, and..." I'm out of breath. I find that I can't finish the sentence. Before I can even react, I feel myself being pulled apart. No, not apart. Pulled up, arms under my armpits, hoisting me up.

Then I hear Hank's voice boom across the reservoir, "Stay back! Everyone. STAY. BACK."

"What's going on?" I ask. My voice sounds thin; even I can't hear it. I try again, but nothing comes out. As I'm carried away, I find myself struggling to hold my head up. For a moment I wonder how hard exactly that guard hit me.

"Erin, can you hear me?" I hear Hank ask.

I open my mouth to answer him, but a cough begins in my throat and my hand goes up to ease the pain in my chest. There is an old sickly taste in my mouth – iron and salt. Listening to all the voices around me and unable to understand depletes the little strength I have and I doze off. But the sound of Hanks voice jolts me awake. He is telling me I'm going to be fine. His mouth keeps on moving, but I struggle to understand what he is saying.

Then, suddenly, everything is dark. I try to open my eyes, but it is still dark.

x

Jay's voice brakes through the darkness and I'm instantly aware of my surroundings. I'm back at the Refuge. I can feel his presence in the space with me. I listen to his voice and I feel him holding my hand. He is worried, the way his brows are knit together and how his voice breaks, spikes a fright in me. "Stay with me," he keeps repeating. Why is he so worried? I reach into my memories, straining, grasping to come up with an answer, but the thoughts drift around like vapor.

I call out, "I'm not going anywhere." But I don't think he can understand me.

I continue to hear Jay's voice. I can feel that he is very close to me. He keeps repeating, "You're going to be fine. Stay with me, Erin."

I concentrate on communicating with him. "Pocket," I manage to say. I squeeze his hand as tightly as I can. "My pocket." He understands me because I feel him rummage through all the pockets until I see him pull out the USB.

A calm washes over me. My job here is done.

I manage to open my eyes and see Jay hovering above me. His long lashes cover those ocean blue eyes of his, which are a shade darker than I remembered. I notice his clothes are bloodied and I can see the purple-red color covering his hands. There is a puddle of crimson growing around me and I watch it half fascinated, half horrified. I can smell it; metallic, warm and sickly, gagging at the back of my throat. I can't think straight. Where is all this blood coming from? Why am I shivering?

I hear Jay calling out to someone. Suddenly there is a flurry of activity around me. I feel something being placed in my arm. Then Hank is there, holding my hand, touching my face. My hands feel hot now, and I feel like I'm fighting for air. I feel like I'm drowning and my body won't stop shaking. I try frantically to keep my eyes open. It is hard. So hard. I want desperately to stay, but slowly the voices fade to a perfect shade of ocean blue before going black.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. Happy Holidays everyone!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for the kind reviews on the last chapter. I'm sorry I left it on a cliffhanger. Since most of you asked for an update and I had a break from all the holiday craziness...Here's the next chapter.**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Jay's POV.**

The call comes through the radio and I tell myself it's all a bad dream.

This can't be happening.

But this is all too vivid. All too real.

Hank pulls Erin's limp body from his car and I rush to meet him. I slide my arm under Erin's shoulders and knees and pull her to me. I can see the shock on everyone's faces as I carry and lay her down on the ground in a boneless heap. Blood flows sluggishly from her mouth and nose, and there is so much that it has soaked through her clothes. Seeing her like this makes me feel like my heart has been torn out and there is nothing left inside but dead air.

"Everyone stand back," Hank barks so loud I can't hear anything else. "Initiate Plan A. And tell Rhodes to get the containment room ready."

The sirens blare.

I look at Erin and her breathing is erratic; long and slow followed by short judders when her body shakes. Convulses. Then settles back into the warmth of her bleeding body. I notice her left cheek is swollen, and there is blood crusted up by her left eye. The line of her jaw, her cheekbones are obscured, puffy and slightly discolored.

"Stay with me Erin," I tell her, my voice wavering. I press my head against hers and my forehead smears with her blood. This is not a random stranger who is infected. It's Erin. Tears threaten to roll down my cheeks. "Stay right here."

I begin to roll up my sleeve. I have the tubbing and the needles ready. But then her lips quiver and blood sputters from the side of her mouth. It's like she's trying to say something, but I can't understand. "Stay with me, Erin."

Her lips smack together now making a popping sound. "Poh-kt." She gasps for air, and her chest makes this awful gurgling sound – blood is pooling up in her chest cavity all too quickly. Her body fighting against the loss of air. "Mm Poh-kt."

 _My pocket._

I search through all her pockets and find a small USB tucked in one of them. She got it. She got the blueprint. I hold the device up and throw it to Hank. I look down at her and she slowly opens her eyes. Her beautiful green irises now pale and cloudy, ringed in a bloodshot, veiny nest.

"Everything is going to be fine," I say, probably more to convince myself.

I rip Erin's shirt sleeve and slide my hands up and down her arm looking for a vein. I can't find one. If I don't start a line soon the infection will overwhelm her body and if too much blood hemorrhages around her heart, the pressure will keep it from beating. So I pull the belt off my waist and wrap it around her arm. Panicking, I slide my hands faster, grunting, tying and untying the tourniquet. Panic threatens to engulf me.

"C'mon," I groan frustrated. In the meantime, her body trembles and twists. The infection is spreading quicker than I've ever seen before. My chest tightens, and I take a deep breath. After what feels like forever, I finally find a vein that's plump enough to use. I insert the needle in and the relief that rushes over me when I see blood trickle from the entry point is almost overwhelming. I insert the other end of the tube into my arm and release the flow. I take her hand in mine and press it to my cheek. Her skin feels like it's on fire.

"I need ice," I call out, swallowing the tightness in my throat. "And towels." Hank signals for the team to get on it and approaches me. "Her body is overheating. We need to keep her temperature down," I explain.

Hanks kneels down holding Erin's head as her body continues to quiver on the floor. Blood bubbles and seeps with each breath. I try not to crumble into the pit of thinking Erin won't make it. I need her. Erin opened up my world. Suddenly the pain in my heart is to strong and I choke back a sob. I feel like I'm being punched in the chest, and I can't catch my breath.

Antonio and Alvin comes back with the ice and towels and Hank assembles makeshift icepacks and places them over Erin's body. Another wet gurgling sound rises from her throat. She begins to cough, deep, throbbing hacking coughs that shakes her hard against the floor. Her breathing gets shallow as her lungs try desperately to find air. She takes in a long wheezing-hacking breath, and for three long moments she chokes on it.

"Erin's drowning in her blood," I tell Hank. I press my cheek close to her ribcage and listen to the wheezing sound of her labored breathing. "We need to relief the pressure in her chest."

"We need Rhodes here now!" Hank bellows.

"There's no time. By the time he suits up Erin will have asphyxiated." I tell him. "I know what to do. I just need a small knife."

"No," Hank shakes his head. "We will wait for Dr. Rhodes."

"We don't have much time." I put as much conviction in my tone as I can. "I know what to do. I've seen it done many times. The last thing I want is to hurt her."

Hank pulls a blade hesitantly from his pocket. But before he hands it to me, he asks, "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Yes," I tell him, taking the blade from his grasp. "Now, I need you to keep her still."

I move the line between Erin and I out of the way and slowly dig between her third and fourth ribs until the metal tip finds the blood pooling inside. I pry the wound open, draining the excess liquid in her chest, bleeding off enough of the pressure to keep her internal organs from shutting down. I don't know how much time passes, but slowly her breathing eases.

"We have to take her to the containment room. She can't stay here. We run the chance of contaminating others."

I nod, starting to feel a little lightheaded. I remain still for a moment to try to let the sensation pass, but it doesn't seem to work.

Before long, Antonio, Kevin, and Adam, outfitted in hazmat suits, helps Hank and I move Erin to the containment room. The room is far too bright and it smells of alcohol and cleaning fluids. We carefully place Erin on an all too narrow hospital bed as the tremors rocket through her body. Dr. Rhodes, wearing his hazmat suit, carefully intubates and hooks her to a ventilator. He then gives her two shots of Aprotinin to clot her blood and Phenobarbital to stop her convulsions. Lastly, he inserts a draining tube where I had made the incision on her side to drain the liquid build up in her chest.

I look up at Hank's face as he watches Dr. Rhodes work on Erin and there are quiet tears behind his eyes. "What are her chances?" He asks.

Rhodes looks down at the ground. His tone shifts, from cautious to grave. "I don't know. I've never seen a viral strain progress this fast." He pauses. "There isn't much else I can do. We just have to wait and hope her body fights back."

Silence falls again, strained over words Dr. Rhodes won't dare say. My shoulders sag, I can feel the adrenaline rush subsiding. I start to feel dizzy and the room begins to spin, shifting my point of balance. I can practically hear my heart pumping in my ears.

"Jay, are you all right?" Rhodes asks, his voice sharp. "You're white as a sheet."

I straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. "I'm fine. How much more blood does she need?" I ask.

"More than you can give without depleting your own supply," Dr. Rhodes says. "Let me take your blood pressure." He wraps a cuff around my arm. As it inflates, I already know it's going to be below normal, but I intend on giving Erin as much blood as I can.

"You're hypotensive," Dr. Rhodes says, glancing down at the dial on the pressure cuff. "How long have you been giving her blood?"

"I don't know," I shrug, willing myself to focus and stare straight at him. It's getting harder by the minute.

"It's been approximately 30 minutes," Hank says. I shake my head, but he looks straight at me, defiantly. "Kid, Erin needs you. You can't exhaust yourself right now. I know you want to help, but you need to take care of yourself too."

"I feel fine," I repeat.

"Okay then," Hank nods. "Let's keep it that way."

Dr. Rhodes takes a stethoscope to Erin's chest and listens for a moment. "It doesn't seem like she's hemorrhaging into her chest cavity. There is no leakage from her mouth or nose. She's seems stable for now. How about you go clean up and eat something – get your blood sugar up. Then we can do another 15 minutes, deal?"

I hesitate. What if something happens and I'm not here. I won't be able to live with myself.

"This is not on you," Hank says, as if reading my thoughts. "You need to wash up." I look down at myself and I'm covered in blood. Erin's blood. "We have to make sure this doesn't spread."

Reluctant, I slowly pull the tube from my arm.

Rhodes leaves the room to refill the oxygen in his suit and as soon as he's out, I stand up. My legs feel wobbly and weak. I grab on to the side of the bed to steady myself. I make my way to the shower and step out of my bloodied clothes. I turn on the water so that it's so hot to the point I almost can't stand. I lean against the cold tiles and breathe the steamy air, trying to unwind my body under the scorching water. It helps numb the fatigue, but not the guilt or grief that's eating me alive. When my skin is crimson red and pruny, I gingerly dry myself, put on clean pants and a shirt.

My head's still spinning, so I walk toward the kitchen to grab something to eat. The loud chatter in the hallway stops almost immediately when I walk in. I can feel everyone's eyes staring at me, and as I start to walk down the hallway I can hear the whispers. I don't feed into it. The only thing I can think about is Erin.

I eat as much as I can and take myself back to Erin. This time Dr. Rhodes inserts a clean line on my wrist. He says the artery there will pump blood more efficiently. I sit by Erin and I manage to lose track of time, though, I find comfort in that. My eyes close at some point and I wake up the following morning to the daylight fighting to sneak through the shutters. I check on Erin and she's still here. Still fighting.

x

Time passes without bringing about any change. At first it seems that time is on our side – she's not getting better, but she's not getting any worse either. I continue on, and although my body is continually weak, tired and in serious pain, I don't give up hope. But slowly time becomes our enemy. The longer it takes for her body to fight the infection off, the less likely it is that it will fight at all. For the time being, my blood is providing antibodies against the virus. However, if her body doesn't kick up its own antibody production, Erin will never recover.

I sit by her most days – otherwise she would be alone, save for when Hank comes and tells me to shower or eat. Today I'm exhausted and fighting sleep. But I soon except my reality and let go – giving in to my exhaustion. Exhaling in final surrender, my whole body slumps on my perch on the chair.

I'm jolted awake hours later by an awful loud banging. My eyes reluctantly open. I hear my name being called, or yelled rather. I take a deep breath and force myself upright in the chair and shake my head. I'm exhausted and my whole body aches.

"Jay, wake up!"

Bang! Bang! BANG!

My eyes narrow against the light in the room. I look around and see Ruzek banging on the glass window. "Jay, wake up, man!"

I shake the fog out of my head and try to get up, but my knees wobble every time I strain my quads to stand. Using the wall behind me as leverage, I finally push myself up on my feet. I take a few steps and everything goes unsteady. My head spins and the ground softens and undulates beneath my feet, and I can't locate solidity, can't find traction. And then, I'm collapsing because I have no strength left.

"Jay! Hey! You alright, man?" Ruzek yells from behind the glass.

"Fine," I tell him, though I'm sure he can't hear me. I push myself up and I half walk, half drag my feet out of the containment room.

"Here," Ruzek says, pulling my arm over his shoulder. "You look like hell. When's the last time you combed your hair?"

I know Ruzek means it as a joke, but I'm afraid any attempt at humor is lost on me. His face falls and he looks like he wants to apologize, but he changes his mind and says, "We can't decode the USB. Hank needs you at the bullpen." He pauses, head nodding towards Erin. "How's she doing?"

"Same. Dr. Rhodes thinks she might need dialysis soon if she doesn't improve."

Ruzek nods and his face falls, then brightens up slightly. "Erin's strong. She'll pull through. Never met anymore like her. So stubborn, you know? If anyone's going to beat this, it is Erin Lindsay."

I nod, though his words sound plastic and empty to my own ears.

I let Ruzek half drag me to the bullpen. As soon as I step foot inside the room goes quiet. I feel their eyes burn into the back of my head.

Antonio clears his throat, holding the USB between his index finger and thumb. "How well do you know this Mouse guy?"

I frown. "Well enough." I say. "I trust him with my life."

"How did you meet him?" He presses on.

"At the Aedes. Why are you asking me this?"

Hank steps out of his office then, a stoic, solemn expression on his face. "Kid, we can't access the contents inside the USB and it just happens one of our own got infected with a deadly strain of the virus while fishing it out for us."

"What are you implying?" I ask, thought I already know the answer.

"It smells like a trap, bro," Hank declares.

His statement lights a fuse inside of me. "You think Mouse did this? He didn't." I shake my head. "No way. Mouse had nothing to do with Erin getting infected."

Hank's face falls into a blank mask, and even though his stoic features are expressionless, his eyes burn intensely. "A guard just happen to be walking by at the exact time and at the exact location Erin was supposed to pick up the USB?"

I shake my head. This is crazy. Mouse would never set a trap. If they figured out we were coming, then Mouse is in trouble. "Have we heard from Mouse?"

Ruzek shakes his head. "We've sent him many messages in the past couple of days, but we haven't heard from him."

"Mouse is in trouble." I jerk away from Ruzek and stand on my own two feet. Bad move on my part. I feel light-headed and weak. "I'm sure of it. He wouldn't go dark after giving us the USB." I look around the room and everyone's skeptically looking at me. "Guys, Mouse had nothing to do with Erin getting infected. I know him. He wants what we want." It takes more energy than I anticipated to remain standing. I hang my head low and look down at my feet and wait for the spinning in my head to stop.

"You alright, man?" Ruzek asks in his lowest voice.

"I fine," I say, instantly regretting the curtness in my voice. "If Mouse left us that USB, then the blueprint is in there."

"We can't access it," Kevin says. "We've tried everything. It has an aggressive encryption that changes every time we try to open the file."

"We need a program to break the code and eliminates the new encryption," Antonio pipes up. "We don't have anyone who can do this."

"We need to find Mouse," I say, my tone slightly pleading and tinged with urgency. "He probably figured out the mission went sideways, and escaped before they could get to him."

A long silence follows as everyone digests what I just said. I can almost hear the cogs turning in their heads. Even Voight looks caught between his better judgment and my rationale. I shoot him a pleading look. "We need to find him," I say without really meaning to sound so desperate. "Without him we won't have access to the blueprints, and what Erin did was for nothing."

The room falls silent once again. After a beat, Voight nods his head towards Antonio. "Antonio, take Ruzek and Atwater and go find this Mouse."

The three of them look between each other, then towards me. I can see the surprise on their faces at Hank's request.

"I hope you're right," Antonio says, looking pointedly at me.

"Me too," I say.

x

After another couple of days without Erin improving, the last bit of hope that we've been lugging around takes one last breath and dies. One-by-one Erin's organs begin to fail. It seems that any form of treatment will only prolong her suffering and the inevitable.

"I'll donate my kidney," I tell Dr. Rhodes. "I only need one."

"It would be a wasted kidney," he says, and I know he didn't mean it like I heard it, but it infuriated me just the same.

My hands ball into fists and my whole body shakes from fury, frustration, and fatigue. "Wasted? This is Erin we're talking about. We can't just give up!"

"We're not giving up," he tells me and places a hand on my shoulder. I jerk away. "But we have to be realistic. That's a complicated surgery you're' suggesting and we're just not equipped to do it."

I force my eyes close and take several quick breaths, willing my tense muscles to relax and my fists to unclench. "What do you need? We can scavenge hospitals nearby."

"Jay, even if we had everything we needed, the chances of Erin surviving the surgery is slim to none. Her whole system is compromised."

Another storm of emotions churns in my stomach and jumbles my brain. I plop down into the chair next to Erin's bed defeated. I feel empty. I feel helpless – reduced to a mere spectator of Erin's demise. I close my eyes, hoping that I can escape from this nightmare, this reality I'm trapped in. I take a long, deep breath and try to think. Fatigue. It fills my awareness. I'm so mentally and physically drained. There is no hope… no energy… no time…I've lost, lost it all. Lost her.

For the first time in longer than I care to remember, I cry out sounds that have grown hidden and unseen in me for years, for my whole life, gurgled, strained sounds of anguish. They pour out of me like a tide of fury. This is true sorrow. This is true pain. The very fabric of my existence is being ripped apart. I feel like my life is being extinguished, my own body suffocated. I have to force myself to breathe.

I close my eyes trying to fight back my anguish and my tears, but images of Erin return, this time even more alive. Her scent, the vivid green of her eyes, the taste of her mouth, the million simple feelings of the moments we shared, each one reminding me of her. For a brief instant I'm there, on the roof, inside a manhole in the middle of nowhere, and I would do anything to stay there forever.

Leaning slightly over towards her, I take her thin, transparent hand in mine. Her skin is grey and lifeless and her face bares a peculiar translucent bluish tint. Bending further still, I kiss her forehead, her lips — all cold and lifeless.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I repeat over and over again. "I'm so sorry."

Sleep eventually take me, but it brings no peace. Something in me refuses to let Erin go. I refuse to relent and refuse sit idly by and do nothing! With some small reserve of energy, I slowly rise, utilizing the walls for balance. The pain and dizziness are present, but is has subsided a bit. I drag myself into Hank's office later that night. I know what I need to do.

I knock on Hank's door, but I don't wait for him to answer. I let myself in. Hank looks up from his desk like he has been lost in an inner turmoil for an eternity. "Can I help you?"

By sheer force of will, I look up into his eyes – those searching eyes, eyes filled with questions and uncertainty. "I'm going back to Aedes." I tell him. "If this viral strain that infected Erin is a lab strain like Dr. Rhodes said, then they must have created an Antidote. I will turn myself in, in exchange for the antidote."

From the change in Hank's expression, I know he sees my defeat – a man broken, or very nearly so. He is not wrong. "You're not doing that." Hank releases a long sigh. "They don't have an antidote."

"Think about it, Hank. Why create a more virulent strain if you don't have an antidote? This is how they remain in control, by creating a virus only they can cure. I heard them talk about something like this."

Hank looks around, as if making sure we're the only ones in his office. "Word is, they made the strain based on a single donor's blood antigen. That donor, however, escaped."

"W-What?" I ask, but I fear I already know the answer. "A single donor?"

Hank opens his mouth to answer, but Dr. Rhode's voice, blaring from the intercom cuts him off. "Hank! It's Erin... Her counts are in. We got antibody production."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. Hopefully this chapter makes up for the cliffhanger. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. And if you are alone, I hope this fandom has kept you company like it has for me so many times. We are never alone. Cheers!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you for your reviews! A friend of mine brought to my attention that there are some very kind humans on Tumblr saying good things about this fic. I wish I had a Tumblr so that I could thank you in person, but since I don't here is my BIG THANK YOU! I appreciate your thoughtful words and I cherish your support. It means the world! =)**

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* * *

 **Erin's POV**

The transition between sleep and waking is gentle. I feel like I'm in a dreamlike haze, only I'm vaguely aware of what is going on around me. I hear people, some speaking in low rushed voices, others poking me in the arm and heartily asking, _how are her counts?_ I can hear beeping and the ingress and egress of air pushed mechanically through some narrow hose nearby. I can tell something happened to me. My body seems different from before. But I can't remember and it doesn't matter much because it all fades, and my mind returns to the nothingness that is sleep.

Time passes, though I have no sense of it, nor any sense of continuity, but I continue to inhabit dreamlike states, hazy spaces between wake and sleep. This keeps happening until I'm jolted awake one day feeling like I'm drowning in a sea of pain. It is inexplicable. The pain burns deep and complete. It is excruciating; my legs feel like they are being dipped into molten lead. I can feel my insides melting. I try to scream, but the sound will not come. My throat is locked and I can't make a sound. Suddenly, I become aware of something strange down my throat, making me feel like it's chocking me. It's a terrible feeling.

"Erin?"

The more conscious I become the more pain I feel. I release a moan in agony as the vast aching grows, rattling even my bones. I can feel beads of sweat forming on my skin, which is also littered with goosebumps.

"Erin, can you hear me?"

I recognize Hank's voice. I slowly open my eyes and my head turns to where his voice seems to echo. A set of blurs resolves themselves into his face hovering above me. He looks spooked, like he's seen a ghost or something.

"Her pain is off the charts," I hear a different voice say. Then, "Erin." Dr. Rhodes's face pops into my field of view. Why is he wearing a _hazmat suit_? "I'm going to give you something for the pain, okay?"

I nod, or at least I think I do.

Immediately I feel something prick my arm and liquid being pushed inside my veins. The pain doesn't quench right away, but whatever he gave me knocks the edge off.

"Get Jay in here right now!" Rhodes says, but I don't give it much thought. My hearing starts to fade and all I can hear now is mumbling. I can feel myself slipping away. My eyes close and all consciousness begins lapsing, and everything vanishes from my mind.

x

The next time I awake I wait for the pain to come, but it doesn't. However, I still feel the tube inside my throat choking me again. I claw at my neck.

"Hey Erin." Dr. Rhode's voice filters in. "We're going to pull the tube out of your throat and see how you do, okay?"

I nod.

"Don't bite down or close your mouth until it's all the way out," he says.

And with one tug, the breathing tube comes right up and out, and it's just about the worse feeling I've ever felt. Tears pour right out of my eyes. Luckily there isn't anything in my stomach to come up along with it. I feel a burning in my throat. I take short loud gasps of air, but I still feel like I'm suffocating. I hear Hank's voice telling me to "Take it easy" and to"Breathe slowly."

Dr. Rhodes cautions me, "Your throat's irritated from the tube. Try no to talk. Just stick to one or two words at a time."

"Oh-kah," I whisper in a scratch response. I can't speak any louder. And yup, my throat stung even with the simple _okay_. I feel exhausted. I have no strength whatsoever. "Wh-aaa H-ppen?" I try to ask. Nothing but gurgles and chokes come out, though I manage to mouth the words.

"Do you remember going to the Aedes?"

Vaguely. Then somethings come to me, like remembering a dream, foggy at first, then coming clear – the image of a tunnel. Then a room. The USB. Then nothing.

"Blu-pri-nt?" I manage.

"Yes," Hank nods. "The blueprint. We got the USB. _You_ got it," he says smiling, but then the smile suddenly fades and he leans in a little closer. "But something happened in there and we are not sure what..." he pauses. "You were infected. Do you remember anything?"

"Inff-cted?" Panic begins to squeeze my chest, making it hard to breathe. I begin to pant – short, rapid breaths that do little to satisfy my body's need for air. Though I try to push down the panic, to slow my breathing, it's as if control of my body has been seized by someone else, some timid creature that, cornered, freezes up instead of fighting back.

"Hey, hey," Hank says with a hand on my shoulder. "Everything is okay. _You_ are okay."

"H-ww?" I question. Hank is not my blood type. There are no other donors in the Refuge. The panic grips me tighter.

Hank turns his head to the left and I follow his gaze and there I see Jay, slumped over on a chair, asleep. His complexion is pale and ghostly; dark circles underscore his eyes and his cheeks are sunken and gaunt. I turn my head a few more inches and my eyes land on a tube filled with red liquid connecting Jay to me. My head fills with a thousand thoughts. My heart starts racing.

"Ja-y a D-nor?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

Hank nods. " _Type O_ donor."

My heart stops and my eyes became blurry with unshed tears. Type O. Universal donor. Suddenly everything about him makes sense: his detachment, his coldness, his unrelenting need to distance himself from me. Jay didn't work at the Aedes. Jay was a prisoner there.

"He Oh-kah?" I ask.

Hank nods. "Tired. A bit drained." Hanks pulls a chair and takes a seat next to me. "He has been donating his blood on and off for nearly two weeks now."

His words are innocent, but they swamps over her like a wave. Jay had drained himself, literally, for me. My jaw clenches, and I'm overwhelmed by all the emotions consuming me. I look back at the tube linking us and notice the fresh needle tracks on his wrist and on the inside bend of his elbow. Why didn't he tell me? Did he not trust me enough to know I could handle it? I just want to draw my knees up to my chest and press my face against them and cry. But I can't find the strength to do either.

Hank's gaze turns tender and he nods. "You should rest."

I squeeze my eyes shut. My thoughts twirl inside my head. My mind is writhing in a curious mixture of relief and anguish. My heart feels like a lead weight in my chest and my lungs are too numb to feel the air I breathe. Eventually sleep rolls over me like a breaking wave, turning and pulling me under, and I let it take me.

x

The next time I wake up Jay is not there. My eyes need a few moments to adjust, and I soon realize that I'm not in the same room as before. The monochrome theme gives away that I'm in the infirmary.

"You're looking good. Better than you were a couple of days ago," one of the nurses, April, pipes up seeing that my eyes are peering curiously around.

"A couple of days?" I ask, surprised that my words, though hoarse, flowed easily past my lips.

"Dr. Rhodes transferred you from the containment room two days ago. You're in the clear, lady."

I look down at myself and wiggle my toes and flex my legs. It's all a bit stiff, but I can move them. I lift my arms from underneath the bed sheet and make fists with my fingers. However, my head still feels foggy, my thoughts fuzzy and slow.

"Has, um, Jay been around?" As soon as I mention his name, I can feel the blood pulsing at the base of my throat. The feeling is downright frightening.

April's smile turns sad, and something inside of me crumples. "He was here when they transferred you, but I haven't seen him since." My disappointment must be showing on my face because she adds, "I'm pretty sure Hank banned him from hanging around here. The guy looked like death itself if it had a face."

I sigh, feeling guilt bubble up inside. I need to talk to him. I need to thank him for saving my life. "Do you think you can find him for me?"

"I don't think that's a good idea. Let me ask Dr. Rhodes if-"

"-You said I am in the clear. And it's not like I can infect him, right?" I pull myself up to a sitting position. I feel woozy, but I pretend to be steady. "It will take five minutes. I just want to thank him for what he did."

April brushes a hand across her face, to push a few strands of hair out of her eyes. I can see that she is considering my request. I feel horrible for pushing her like this. But what else can I do? I need to see Jay.

"Five minutes, April. That's all I need." I can hear the begging tone in my voice and I hate myself for it.

"Alright," she relents. "Five minutes."

"Thank you," I say and she slips out of the room.

I sit impatiently. I feel so nervous that butterflies go off in my stomach. I want to pretend this isn't a big deal; to act as if what I feel for Jay is less than what it really is. It scares me and thrills me at the same time because this is real; it isn't just a crush anymore. I have yet to say out loud what I feel for him, but I feel it just the same.

Not five minutes later, there's a light knock on the door. My heart begins to hammer in my chest in anticipation.

"Erin?" I hear his voice before I see him.

He pushes the door open and our eyes meet – his bright blue melding with my plain hazel ones. I feel my smile widen and my breathing pick up. I notice how much weight he's lost and how hollow his cheeks are. Guilt pinches me. There's so much I want to say, but my lips are frozen, my tongue refusing to work.

Jay's eyes dart around my face, searching for what, I do not know. And then I realize what he is looking for in my eyes, _permission_. I nod and he closes the short distance between us and folds his arms around me, pulling me against his solid frame. "I'm so glad you're okay," he whispers against my hair.

I sink into his hug, closing my eyes, taking what he is offering. He feels so good under my palms, and somewhere within the embrace, I notice the shift. His body tenses against mine, hands finding my upper arms to position me away a few inches to see my eyes and study my face.

"You feeling okay?"

There is so much going on in his expression I have trouble getting my words out. "A-A lot better now," I say.

His face softens and his smile spreads from lips to his cheeks to his eyes. I drink in his expression, hoping I can save it in my memory forever. Reaching up, I rest my palms on either side of his face, his stubble scraping my skin. I bring his face down to mine and our lips slowly meld together. I sigh when his tongue glides against mine, slow and tender as he explores my mouth. I've missed this. I've missed him. The tension in his body hasn't eased, and I can feel his struggle, sense him holding back.

Moments later, he breaks away, breath heavy, sultry, and irregular when he leans his forehead to nine. My face burns, his scent and heat overwhelming.

"Erin…" I see the struggle etched all over his face. "We can't. It's dangerous."

"I don't care," I tell him. I feel my chest press closer, like my heart is trying to align with his. "I will take the risk."

He shakes his head. "Erin-"

I lean in for another kiss, but he pulls away.

"Listen…" He cups my chin in his hand to make sure my eyes are trained on his. "If they find me, they will take you. It is what's happened to everyone who's been close to me. I can't do that to you. I can't be selfish with you."

I can feel my pulse pounding in my ears. "Don't push me away because you're afraid," I say over the lump in my throat. "Wouldn't you take the risk if you were in my shoes?"

His eyes narrow slightly and he looks like he is gathering enough courage to say what's on his mind. "My mom died because of me. She had cancer and refused to go to the hospital because she was scared they would find me."

"Jay- "

"-No," he shakes his head. "You need to know what happens to people I lo-" He stops, catching himself. "People around me." He takes a deep breath, lowering his voice. "They took my brother when I was captured. They made me watch while they tortured him. And I…" His words falters and he releases a heavy sigh. "I don't want you to have the same fate as _them_."

I close my eyes to get my emotions under control. "You don't know the future. You don't know that they will find you. And even if they come, you are not alone. "I take his hand in mine and trace the needle tracks on his writs. "We can keep this between us. No one _needs_ to know," I whisper. "This will be ours and no one else's."

"Er- "

I can see the battle behind his eyes, and I wish I could do something to erase his worries. I lean in and I touch my lips to his. This time he doesn't pull away. I gently move my lips, waiting for him to respond, and he does by pulling me close against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around me as I move my arms to hug him tightly too. This kiss isn't full of passion or lust. It's sweet and a little sad. Like what I think a goodbye kiss would be.

When the kiss ends, I lay my head against his chest, listening the rapid beating of his heart, feeling him caress my hair, my back. "I never want to hurt you."

"You can't hurt me," I tell him.

I feel his lips move against my hair. "I told myself I wouldn't be selfish with you."

"You're not being self-"

"-If anything happens to you-"

"-Nothing is going to happen to me. _They_ can't get to us here. For as long as I've been here, they've never come past the divide." I turn to fully face him. "You deserve everything good."

"I just want what's best for you."

"Let me decide what's best for me."

He lowers his head towards me, but at the last second he stops just short of my mouth and looks deep into my eyes – a mixture of fear and anticipation there. "I'm not a regular guy."

"I'm not a regular girl," I counter.

"This won't be easy," he insists, as if trying to convince otherwise.

"Not looking for easy," I tell him, hoping for a fleeting moment that I got through to him. We stare at each other. Then his hand is on my neck, sliding upward over my jaw, caressing my cheek.

And then it happens.

Jay surrenders.

As if in slow motion, he draws me to him. I first feel the touch of his lips like a caress of velvet. Full and wonderful. They cover my lips and his breath fills me with his warmth. I lose myself in his embrace, I feel the hardness of his chest as his arms hold me tight. I can feel the pressure of his hands on my back and I think of how strong he is, yet gentle. My eyes close, enjoying, savoring, wanting more. I feel my whole body melt, and soon I'll be nothing more than a puddle within his embrace.

Jay pulls back shortly after and our eyes slowly open. He smiles, an oddly bewildered, aching vulnerable smile. The tip of his finger glides along my bottom lip. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asks.

Pulling slightly back, I look into his crystal colored eyes and simply nod.

He leans in again for a quick, sweet kiss, but April chooses that moment to interrupt. We pull apart and I look at her sheepishly.

"Your five minutes are up," she says.

"Thank you," I tell April and then turn to Jay and repeat, "Thank you." I squeeze his hand. "For everything."

His smile is so big that it brightens the whole room and warms the electric blue of his eyes.

"I will check on you tomorrow," he says.

Jay squeezes my knee and disappears out the door. I can see the curiosity in April's eyes, searching my own for some sort of tell. I'm sure it's there. I'm sure my feelings are all over my face. I lean back and try to digest what just happened.

x

I sleep on and off for the next few days, but gradually I increase my time up and around. Every day I feel a bit more like myself. I continue to regain my strength and within a week's time I'm back in my room and up doing simple activities.

After my first night back in my room, I hear a light knock on the door bright and early followed Hanks's gravely voice, "Everybody decent?"

"Yes, Come in."

"How're you doing, kid?"

I turn and see Hank's smiling face. He doesn't smile often, but when he does, it softens the harsh lines of his face.

"Glad to be out from under April's watchful eye. Can't wait to be back in the pen."

"Take your time," Hank cautions. "There is no rush."

"I feel fine."

"Dr. Rhodes wants you to take it easy."

"It's not like I'm going scavenging," I tell him. "I just want to catch up on things…"

Hank stares at me for a moment before saying, "I thought maybe Halstead had been keeping you up-to-date. You and Jay have grown pretty close in the past week."

I recognize the submerged meaning behind Hank's words. "Besides you, he was the only one allowed in my room. I appreciated the company," I counter.

"Look kid," he stares straight at me, but loses the smile. "I just want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into."

"I'm not getting myself into anything," I tell him without hesitation. "There's nothing going on there. He saved my life. That's all."

"Jay isn't just your typical donor. He has a target on his back."

"What do you mean?"

Hank heaves a heavy sigh. "Besides being type O, it seems the Aedes engineered a retrovirus - the one we think you were infected with - against his blood in particular."

"What do you mean?"

Hank explains, "We think they wanted to create a strain that only they can cure. Another attempt to stay in control," he adds offhandedly. "Since Jay's blood type lacks any inherited antigenic substances on the surface of his red blood cells, it makes it easier to engineer a viral strain. In other words, Jay's blood just became even more valuable."

"Does he know?"

"He does," Hank nods. He drags his feet further inside and sits on the edge of my bed. "These people are monsters, Erin. They will try anything to get to him. _Anything_."

I know what he is implying. ""Hank," I say, taking a seat next to him. There is a hint of unwelcomed indignation in my voice. "What are you asking here?"

He looks back at me and his face softens into paternalistic concern. "I just want you to be careful," he says and places a hand on my knee and squeezes. "I can't see you hurt again."

"Jay would never let anything happen to me. And I can take care of myself."

Hank nods. "I know." He pushes himself up. "He is a good kid. But don't feel like you own him anything for what he did."

"I don't think that," I say, although, I feel like I owe him my life.

Hank ruffles my hair like I'm a little kid, and I lightly push his hand away.

"I gotta head back," he says.

"I will see you in a few," I tell him boldly.

Hank half chuckles. "No rush, Erin. No rush."

Hank leaves and I try to not give too much thought to what he just told me. All I can thinks about is how weightless I feel, and dare I say, happy. Wait...happy? Yes. Happy. Jay makes me happy. Pure and simple. He's sweet and kind. He doesn't take from me like others from my past. He makes me feel at ease and, I don't know, I have been through a lot lately. Even though this is all new and we've been keeping things on the down low, I already can tell I'm in too deep.

I leave my room and head straight to the pen. As soon as I walk in all eyes turn in my direction.

"She's back!" Ruzek exclaims and pulls me for a hug."Well, look at you. She's back, folks," he announces.

"Welcome back, Lindsay!" Antonio says, giving me a sideways hug. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good. Engines running at ninety percent."

"So," Ruzek begins, a joking tone to his voice, "Are you like a super donor like Jay?"

My eyes meet Jay's across the room. His blue irises go all soft and warm, and he gives me his crooked, easy smile. My heart feels like someone is squeezing it from the inside.

"No, I guess I'm just immune to the virus now," I explain.

"Maybe we should all get infected," Ruzek says and Alvin whacks him over the head. "What? It makes sense, no?"

Everyone rolls their eyes at Ruzek.

Burgess, Alvin, and Kevin all welcome me next – their smiles warm and their hugs tight. I missed them. My family. Being quarantined was no joke.

I walk into the kitchenette to pour myself a cup of coffee and hear footsteps behind me; I'm hardly surprised to see Jay standing there. He smiles warmly and I try to get a grip on my fluttering insides.

"Glad you're back," he says.

"Glad to be back."

"You feeling okay?"

"Stop worrying," I tell him. "I'm alright. You heard Dr. Rhodes," I say, trying to inject strength in my voice.

He walks nearer, bends down, and whispers in my ear, "I missed you."

The lightest caress of his breath against my neck sends shivers through my body. I gently nudge the kitchen door close with my foot and Jay takes the hint, tilting my chin with the tip of his finger, he bends his head to brush his lips upon my already partially opened mouth. Once, twice. It is just a whisper of a kiss, soft and sweet, but so sensually delightful, that I close my eyes.

Before we get too carried away, we pull apart. I try to regain my footing, my breath.

"I want to take you on a date," he says. "If you're feeling up for it."

"A date? Like dinner and a movie date?" I grin, heart whirling.

"Maybe," he winks mischievously.

I blush. "When?"

"Tonight."

"Tonight?" My voice rises a little – don't mean to sound so taken aback, but I'm.

"Again, only if you're not up for it," he says, searching my eyes for a moment. leaning closer, he reaches out and touches my face, his fingers light and feather-like on my skin. "It doesn't have to be tonight. I just wanted to do _this,_ " he gestures between us, "Right."

"No, no. Tonight sounds perfect." I find myself smiling back at him almost foolishly.

His grin widens, a sparkle lightning his blue eyes. He leans in and pecks a quick kiss to my lips, at least that's what I think he meant to do, but he lingers like he can't get enough. Jay pulls away and gazes down at me. I wonder if he can read my thoughts right then. I hope not.

"I guess I will see you tonight then," he says and steps out into the pen. My heart beats rapidly in my chest and my throat squeeze in time with my stomach.

I have a date with Jay Halstead.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Your comments/reviews/constructive criticisms are always welcome. Next chapter the rating will be changed to [M]. Cheers!**


	10. Chapter 10

**TGIF, am I right? I want to start by thanking each and everyone of you for your reviews! You guys are so kind. I love this fandom!**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

 **Rated [M]**

* * *

 **Jay P.O.V**

Am I being selfish?

I keep asking myself this question. I keep pondering if putting a target on Erin's back is worth it. But then her lips are on mine and her scent is invading my nose and all my worries evaporate faster than a snowball thrown into hell. She makes me forget all the pains and troubles, makes me forget even how fucked up this world is. I haven't allowed myself to be this happy, this content. I forgot what it felt like, I forgot how powerful this _feeling_ is.

And now I can't go back. I'm not strong enough to stay away from her. Erin is an addiction I don't want to quit.

I plan our date - I want to do this right - and I even have a backup plan in case the weather outside decides to be uncooperative. After what Erin went through the last month, I just want it to be good. I scavenge the Refuge and find some twinkling lights, a table and chairs, and even some candle sticks. I talk to the cooks in the kitchen and they help me put together a small pasta dinner. _Anything for Erin,_ they say. This girl - my girl - has charmed her way through everyone's heart, and I'm not one bit surprised.

I set everything up on the roof and on Friday night, after everyone has retreated to their rooms, Erin and I sneak up there. She's wearing a simple dress and her hair is loose around her face. She looks beautiful. She is looking at me, staring into my eyes, and I know I will never get used to this—happiness so intense and contentment so real it stuns me.

"You are taking me on a date on the roof?" She raises an eyebrow in question.

"Hey, you said it was your favorite place," I tell her. I turn the latch and push the door. I climb the ladder ahead of her and help her up. The look on her face when she sees what I've done with the place is one I will remember forever.

Erin covers her mouth as she takes It all in. "Jay, this is…." Her words falter. "How did you- How come -The lights? And the candles?" She gasps. "Mmm…and that smell? What is it?"

I take her hand and kiss her knuckles and walk us to the table. I pull the topper from our plates and the aroma amplifies. "Pasta," I tell her.

"How did you-"

"-I don't reveal my secrets," I tell her. I give her a genuine smile when she looks back at me still awe struck. I pull a chair out for her and we sit. The night air is still warm, and the moon and stars are especially bright.

"I've never been on a date like this," she says. Happiness is radiating off of her, and her smile is brighter than I've seen before.

"Me neither," I confess. Under the moonlight I notice she has more freckles on her nose than on her cheeks. I love freckles, I decide. I lean towards her to kiss her, and she smiles before kissing me back. "Let's dig in?" I say. "Before it gets cold."

I pull a half used wine bottle I _borrowed_ from the kitchen and pour ourselves a glass – except it's not a glass, but two coffee mugs. It was the best I could find. I take a sip and it goes down easy. We talk in between bites and I can't help looking at her, thinking how beautiful she is, how unbelievable this moment is. Erin is just chatting away not even noticing that I'm staring at her. The urge to touch her is so strong that I can't help but reach over and tuck a curl behind her ear.

She stops talking and looks at me and smiles, her dimples appearing on cheeks that are now soft shade of pink.

"So," she says around a mouthful of pasta. I can see a bit of hesitation before she asks, "Have you always known you were a donor?"

I chew the last bit of the food in my mouth. "Yeah. I wasn't born in a city hospital; therefore, I wasn't tested at birth. So my mom had my brother and I tested when we were young. My mom had a friend who worked at the testing facility and she warned her about the results. So we ran away from our faction in Canaryville. We were nomads for a long while."

"That must've been hard."

I shrug. "Not at first. But as I grew older and began understanding I was the reason we were nomads…Yeah, it sucked. It didn't help that my dad never let me forget it. But I learned a lot on the road: self-defense, survival skills, you know?"

Erin nods. "I wasn't a nomad, but more like a drifter." She takes a sip from her mug. "I never knew my dad; and my mom…. Well, she was very _friendly_ with men _._ So we were always jumping from place to place. But I already told you that."

"I guess everyone has a story, uh?" I offer. "Something to tell future generations."

Erin frowns and a skeptic smile pulls at the corners of her lips. "Future generations?"

My eyes widen. I suddenly realize how my comment must have sounded to her. "I didn't mean it… like other people, you know? Just, it..." I realize I'm not making any sense. I must look crazy.

Erin smiles, amused. "What? You don't want kids?" She asks.

The answer is simple. No. Although many may think being a donor is some sort of blessing, I disagree. My life has been nothing but hardships – until Erin, that is. I don't want to bring a kid knowing that there is a 50% chance of him or her inheriting my genetic misfortune. God, this isn't the place I've envisaged having this conversation. If I'm being honest, I haven't planned on having this conversation at all. I look up at her, she bites her lips as she waits for my answer.

"No," I answer her truthfully.

To my surprise, she nods, nonchalantly. "Don't think I can have them anyways." She shrugs.

I feel like an idiot. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…it was stupid-"

"Jay," she takes a sip form her mug, "It's fine. It's common knowledge that kids don't come around naturally anymore. How many kids do you see around the Refuge?"

I think about it. I actually haven't seen any.

"That's why the cities have surrogacy and in vitro." Erin smiles. "I was just pulling your chain," she says grinning from ear to ear, those pesky dimples in full display. "You look cute all flustered."

I feel the hot blush sweep across my face and I'm struck with silence. She got me good.

"And no, kids are not in my plan either. My life is already crazy as is. I can't imagine adding another person to the mix."

I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. "I just can't think of having a kid that's like me in this fucked up world, you know? I don't wish this life on my worst enemy."

She nods understandingly. "Hopefully it's not that bad now," she offers shyly. Her eyes holding a glint of hope.

"No," I shake my head. "It's not that bad now." I reach for her hand across the table. "In fact, everything is pretty great, right?"

"Everything is pretty great," she agrees.

We finish eating and move our chairs so we are sitting side by side, looking out into the nothing. A permanent smile rests on Erin's face, not fixed or phony. It's there and it's relaxed. The night breeze is still warm and it brushes against our cheeks. I get a whiff of vanilla, I think, and it makes me want to draw her closer. Silence falls, and with anyone else, I would have felt a little awkward quietly siting here. But with her, I feel completely at ease.

"You know," She says, breaking the silence. "I never told anyone this, but ever since I was a little kid I've wanted to see the ocean," she tells me, her face breaking into a smile.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Erin wraps her arms around herself and her eyes have that faraway look in them.

"There isn't much to look at," I tell her.

"What? You've seen one?" She asks me, her eyes widening in anticipation for my answer.

"I've seen many," I tell her. "Most weren't a sight you want to see, though."

The light in her eyes dims a little. "I've seen the pictures and I dream of the water lapping against my ankles… I dream of submerging from head to toe in it."

I smile at her imagery. "There was one lake, up north that was clean enough to swim in it. But it was a long time ago, doubt that it's still there."

She smiles, though it doesn't reach her eyes. "When all this is over, I'm going east – they say the waters are still intact there." She exhales and stretches her legs in front of her. "What about you? What do you want to do when all this is over?"

"Uh," I have not thought that far ahead, and the question catches me off guard. "I don't know," I tell her honestly.

"What did you dream about when you were a kid?"

I chuckle. "Um..." I think. "I've always wanted to own a motorcycle. But I never could. Draws too much attention."

Erin nods. "Yeah, you're right. Maybe one day."

"Oh, definitely."

Erin leans against me and I shift my arm and slide it around her, pulling her against my side. The sweet smell of vanilla invades my nostrils again. I can't help but bury my nose in her hair. It smells just as sweet, and I can't get enough of it. I'm addicted to her and nothing is changing that. Not now, not ever.

"Do you think we'll be able to take down the Aedes," she asks me, her tone turned serious. "You know better than us how they operate. Do you think we have a chance against then?

"If we find Mouse, I think we have a good chance," I tell her honestly.

"We've been looking for him for weeks now and he hasn't turned up."

"He is out there," I say. "We just need to keep looking."

Erin releases a tired sigh. "I hope you're right."

We spend the rest of the night watching the patrolmen change shifts down below. The previously warm breeze turns cool. I take off my sweater and wrap it around Erin's shoulders and she nestles even closer to me. It surprises me how much I want to stay longer. I'm almost floating; that's how good I feel.

x

There's no one in the hallway when we walk back to her room. Everything is dark and quiet. When we reach her door she pauses before going inside, eyes glancing to see if anyone is around.

"I had fun tonight," she says.

"Me too."

We both stand there - watching the other - not knowing how to proceed. I touch a long lock of her silky hair and then tug my sweater closer under her chin, little touches I'm not sure why I need. But I do. All I know is I don't want to tell her goodbye.

Then she looks up at me, and there it is. That smile I would do anything for. I slowly lean in and press my lips against hers. Her mouth is soft, too, and she tastes sweet as I slide my tongue against hers. She quietly moans, then parts her lips for me, taking a fist full of my shirt in her hands, gently pulling closer. The sensation from the kiss both kills me and brings me back to life in the same breath. Then it grows hotter, deeper, more and more intense with every second that our lips and tongues collide. I find myself sliding my hands down her shoulders so I can pull her even closer.

"Maybe I should go," I whisper against her lips as our mouths moves us into more and more dangerous territory.

"Mm-hmm," she agrees, but our lips don't part. In fact, she begins to walk backwards, pulling me inside with her. I can't do a single thing about it.

Maybe we are moving too fast. I have every intention of taking it slow with her. I don't want to disturb what we have by rushing it. But I can't let her go, can't stop kissing her. I can't get enough of her.

"Erin-"

She pulls away slightly and whispers, "Stay."

All the blood that hadn't already rushed south, takes a trip in that direction.

"Okay," is all I can muster to say.

Erin breathes out and starts unbuttoning my shirt. I watch her pop the buttons through the holes, enjoying her touch as she pushes the halves of my shirt aside. She moves her hands behind my back, skating across my skin beneath the shirt, and when she scores her nails lightly down, I shudder. At that she smiles mischievously and kisses me, lifting her arms around my neck.

She kicks the door close behind us and our lips find one another again. Erin's soft in my arms, all curves and silky skin, and I mold her to me, enjoying the feel of her body against mine.

Moving back, I lead us to the bed, where I sit and pull her down with me. She stretches out on top of me, then lowers her mouth to mine, and we kiss. I relish in the gentle exploration of her tongue and the way she nibbles on my bottom lip with her teeth. In the mean time, smooth my hands down over her waist, her hips, her backside, then back up. Holding her tightly, I twist so she's underneath me. She goes for my pants, but I wrap my hands around her wrists to still them. I sit back on my heels and lift her up to a sitting position, then catch the hem of her dress.

I paused to look at her. I need to know we're on the same page. "This okay?"

She doesn't say anything, but the look in her eyes floors me - all heat and fire, her green irises like blazing emeralds.

She lifts her arms and I pull her dress over her head and the view (no bra) promptly robs me of my breath.

"You're so beautiful," I tell her and she blushes.

I lightly drag my fingertips down her arm and watch goosebumps form. Learning all the ways her body will react to me is going to be my newest obsession.

I ease her back down on the bed and kiss up from her belly. My lips brush over a scar – thin and curved - just above her hip. I make a note to ask about it later. I continue to kiss my way up until I reach her breasts. I glide over them gently, then circle my thumbs over the tips, feeling them harden, and then tug them until a moan escapes her lips. I do it again. I cover them with my mouth and lave it with my tongue, and she rocks her hips against mine. The movement is rhythmic, insistent, her breathing deepening and it's no surprise that my erection is testing the strength of my zipper right now.

"Oh God." She balls the sheets in her fists and her heels push against the mattress.

Encouraged, I stay there for a while, teasing her sensitive skin with the tip of my tongue, grazing my teeth on it, and then sucking, gentle at first, then adding a bit more pressure. Her eyes flutters open, and her lips part. I can't ignore them, but I still have plans for her. I dust my lips across hers and move lower. I kiss down her ribs, plant a kiss over her belly, and then shift until I lay between her tights, she lifts up on her elbows to stare at me.

Holding her gaze, I stare deeply into her eyes until I see her grant me permission. I ease her underwear down, part her folds with my hands, and bend my head and run my tongue up her middle. Her hips buck. I grin.

Her hands cover her face. I crawl up to push them away and kiss her. "Do you want me to stop?" I ask. "Just say the word. We can stop right here."

I chew on the inside of my lip, waiting for her to reply, then kiss her again when she shakes her head. "Don't stop."

I ease myself back down her body. With my finger and my lips, I touch and kiss every inch of her. Stopping and staying wherever it is that makes her start moving underneath me. I'm hard as a rock, but all I can focus on is her, her sounds, her taste, how soft she is – all slick and warm. I slide my tongue inside her as far as I can before coming back up to circle over her clit. I smile against her when she calls out my name.

When her body arches to press more fully into my touch, something deep inside me snaps. I have to fight not to rise and slide into her – every cell in my body is crying out for me to lose myself in her soft flesh and thrust us both to a blissful conclusion.

I don't though. I arouse her as slowly as I can bear, lapping up her moisture, teasing her with the tip of my tongue. I can feel her body tensing around me, the muscles in her thighs and stomach starting to tighten, her breaths turning ragged and I know she's on her way.

So I slow, even more, wanting to make this good for her. Every brush of my tongue is now making her gasp. She groans and pants with pleasure, and finally I push her over the edge. I guide her through it and take my time to lick her gently and kiss her thighs before finally lifting up and lying next to her.

She turns her head to look at me. Her face is flushed, her mouth open, and her eyes look dazed.

"Nice?" I ask sheepishly.

She releases a sultry belly laugh. "Mmmm…Nice is not the word I would use to describe what you just did."

"C'mere." I pull her into my arms and she curls up beside me, soft and warm.

I feel as if the world has faded away. The Aedes, the missions, the loneliness– everything is in a shadow, and all that exists is Erin and I. I can already tell I will never get enough of her. I'm crazy about her in a way I've never been crazy about any woman in my life.

"What's this? You have a tattoo of a barcode?" She asks, running her hand over my bicep. "51163."

"It's my donor barcode." I tell her, toying with her hair, stroking it absently, fingers tangling in the silky stands. "That way the Aedes can keep track of all their donors. They scan it whenever they give us food, medication, or any sort of treatment. Every time they collect blood they slap our barcode on the bags."

She nods. "Have you thought about removing it?"

"I've tried. But they made it so you can't. I would have to cut my arm off."

"That would be a shame. I like you arm." She places a kiss there and her eyes skate over my body, exploring me in a way that makes me shiver. She touches the side of my pants with her fingertips and looks at me. "There's a lot that I like," she says suggestively and rises on her palms.

Erin smiles sultry and mysterious, and kisses my collar bone, my shoulder. She runs one fingertip down the center of my body so lightly that it tickles and excites me at once. How can one fingertip send so much heat through my body? She follows that finger with her tongue, stopping every few seconds to lavish my feverish flesh with an openmouthed kiss. Every time I feel her mouth settle over my skin, it sends a shiver of anticipation right through me.

"You're a little behind," she says and pulls my pants, taking my boxers with it in a move is so fast it leaves me completely stunned. She looks at me with those hazel-green eyes simmering with desire, then bends over and runs her tongue over my tip and holy shit I just about crawl out of my skin.

I hiss when she takes me whole, running her mouth up and down my length. First quickly that it feels like I'm going to explode, then slowing and tightening until I'm arching my back and gripping the sheets. My god. _This woman._ This amazing woman. I find it hard to think with my senses rapidly overriding my brain. After only a few minutes of this, I can't take any more.

I'm breathing as if I've run a sprint. "I don't think," breath. "I can, God," breath. "Erin, I'm gonna..."

Releasing me, she runs kisses back up my stomach, over my chest and neck. Her nose pushing into my skin, her mouth causing my nerves to tingle. She sits up, moves her hair to one side, and straddles me - her warm, wet heat against me, it's searing. I bend my knees and she guides me between her folds. My breath hisses through my teeth and I gently thrust up into her. She gasps and I wonder if I've hurt her.

Before I open my mouth to ask, she says, "I'm okay."

"I don't want to hurt-"

"-You're not," she assures me and starts to move on top of me.

She places her hands on my hips and begins rocking steadily over me, swaying our connected bodies in sweet torment. Her thrusts quicken and my whole body sizzles. It crackles. It pops. It's ready to snap. I'm losing control. I try to go slow. I try as hard as possible to be gentle, but the way she's moving against me, with me, I can't hold back. Erin senses I'm near release, so she tightens around me and her thrusts become even faster, harder. I want to let her know how good this feels, how good _she_ feels, but the words get stuck in my throat.

Unspeakable pleasure barrels through me – rocks me to my bones. Thankfully, she is right there with me. Her body grips and she comes, too. Hard. When we are no more than a panting heap of limbs on the bed, I pull back to look at her. Even though her eyes are closed, she is smiling. It's infectious. She looks blissfully happy. And that's exactly how I feel right now. I kiss her lips. Nothing in my damn life has ever felt this right.

* * *

 **Thanks you for reading! Always love hearing your take on the chapters. Cheers!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you for your continued support. Makes me so happy to know you guys are enjoying going along with me on this crazy fic. =)**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Erin's POV.**

Everyone knows.

The sideway looks, the knowing smiles, the winks…everyone knows Jay and I are a _thing_. I should have known, in a place this small, where everybody knows everybody's business, you can't keep anything a secret. We tried to keep our relationship a secret, but rumors spread like wildfire. To be honest, we did a pretty rubbish job of hiding our feelings. We kept sneaking off to the back staircases for stolen kisses, and tiptoeing up to the roof as soon as the lights were off. I don't regret any of it. I'm happy. Yes, I, Erin Lindsay, am happy. Jay makes me happy.

Jay, on the other hand, is hesitant about being "public". He subscribes to the idea that if something sounds too good to be true, it probably is. The guy is always waiting for the other shoe to drop, afflicted with the "what if" disorder. He constantly thinks, "what if something bad happens, what if the Aedes finds me, what if they take you, what if, what if, what if..." I understand where he is coming from. I get it, but sometimes Jay is so wrapped up in the past and future that he tends to overlook the present.

I guess I'll just have to keep his mind busy.

x

Dawn is slowly breaking and the sun is just peeking over the horizon now. We are in my room, curled up on my bed basking in one another. My head rests against his bare chest, making circles with my thumb beneath his collarbone. I smile with the memory of last night. He grins down at me, making me want to take this moment and freeze it in time.

I would say for the first time in my life I really understand the difference between having sex and making love. Because I'm pretty sure that's what we do. Even when it's hot, passionate, mind-blowing, off-the-radar sex, it's still tender, all-consuming, and perfect.

"I like this… being with you," I tell him.

He runs his hand through my hair and says, in a throaty voice, "Me too."

We exchange a long, sloppy kiss, and I sigh against his lips. Sliding a finger under his chin, I tip it up, and then lean forward and kiss the hollow of his throat where it glistens. It tastes salty, giving me a buzz of satisfaction that it was me who made him hot and sweaty like this. We've created this bubble in the last couple of weeks, but as comfortable and cozy as it is, it burst as soon as reality hits. This time it's the footsteps outside in the hallway letting us know the Refuge is slowly waking up.

Jay twirls a lock of hair around his finger and inhales deeply. "I should go. We have to be at the pen in less than an hour," he says, his voice more convincing than his eyes.

Sighing, I lift my head and look at him. "I don't want to think about anything outside these walls. Right now, all I want is to be here with you."

I draw the purple comforter up and over us and resume resting my head against him. But Jay slowly pulls away and clicks the bedside lamp on, flooding the room with light. He reaches down to the floor, snatching up his discarded boxers. I notice the trail of our clothes littering the floor. My pants, his shirt and pants - all haphazardly over the floor.

"Don't go," I say, and move toward him sitting on the edge of the bed. I press my lips to his broad back and wrap my arms around his middle. He turns in my embrace, his eyes soft as he pulls me for a chaste kiss.

"They…" he motions with his head towards the door. "…Will probably see me leaving if I don't leave soon."

"I think they already know," I tell him playfully, but his whole demeanor turns serious. His eyes deepen into pools of dark blue, his brows furrow slightly, but his lips remain perfectly noncommittal; no hint of a smile, but no scowl either.

"We have to be more careful," he says.

"All I'm asking for is 5 more minutes," I tell him sweetly, and he seems to relax at that. Jay smiles and leans in to place a quick peck on my lips, but I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him for a deep kiss. He relents and lets himself be pulled in. I can feel him almost giving in, but at the last second, he pulls away. I want to tighten my grip and refuse to let him go. But I don't. Instead, I wrap my naked self in a blanket and watch him pull his pants over his boxers and yank his shirt over his head.

"Big day today." I tell him. "So, do you think Mouse will be there?"

He finishes zipping his pants. "There's only one person who could've sent that communique."

Two days ago we received a message with only two words: _Korangal Valley._ Jay immediately knew it was from Mouse. How? We don't know. He didn't provide specifics and was very vague about it. All he said was that it's a place only Mouse would know. I want to know more, but I don't want to push him. He will tell me when he is ready.

The whole team is going there today. I'm trying not to worry, but the idea of Jay betting everything on a hunch scares the shit out of me. Maybe that's why I want to stay in our bubble a few moments longer and forget the world outside my bedroom walls. I bet he can see the concern etched on my face because he bends down and brushes his lips against my forehead, then my lips.

"It's him," he tells me.

"I just…I worry it's a trap."

"It's not. You gotta trust me on this. The Aedes doesn't know about Korangal Valley. Mouse is the only one that knows, and we need to go get him."

There is intensity and steady resolve in his voice.

"See-you-later kiss?" I ask softly.

He smiles, his blue eyes crinkling as he leans in. I grab hold of his shirt and pull him to me. I lean back, trying to pull him onto the bed one last time, but he brakes the kiss and shakes his head.

"You're killing me woman. You know that, don't you?"

"I hope not because I have plans for later and they require you to be alive." I beam him a cheeky grin.

The edges of his mouth tilts into a dangerous smile while he assesses me through fiery eyes. "I will hold you to it."

He places one final kiss on my lips, and I can hear a deep growl in his chest. I'm smiling like an idiot. Jay leaves, but his presence is still everywhere in my room. It is as though he is still standing in front of me. I close my eyes and inhale his lingering scent.

I'm falling for him. hard. So hard. And yet somehow it feels right. Him, me, together...

Everything works. We work. I don't know how, don't know why, but maybe I don't need to have all the answers. Maybe it is enough to just feel wonderful.

x

Morning flies by. Before I know it, we are on our way to Korangal Valley. I decide to take the old 300 and Jay "volunteers" to come with me. During the drive, he is so concentrated that he doesn't even blink. I look over at him and he looks deep in thought. I reach for him. I touch his arm, and he looks at me.

"What's on your mind?" I ask.

He swallows hard and turns away from the foggy window. He looks down at his lap, shaking his head. "Nothing, really. I just hope Mouse is okay."

"Why wouldn't he be?" I ask cautiously. Silence. I watch him straighten up and clear his throat.

"Mouse was privy to a lot that happened in the Aedes. There are plenty of people that want him gone."

"Let's hope he is okay."

His face stretches into something that might be taken for a smile. I decided not to push the subject anymore. I reach across the console and squeeze his hand. Aside from the occasional conversation that comes through the radio, we drive the rest of the way in silence.

When we finally arrive, it almost seems like we stepped into a different dimension. I have never seen a place like this. Bare as all hell. The trees are strangely stripped of their bark and look white like ghosts. Some are torn violently from their roots and felled. The sunlight peeking through the trees looks gray and it shafts between the trees, clouded by a creeping fog that obscures the true color of everything. This place gives me a whole new bad vibe that I've never felt before.

Jay walks ahead of us, as we slowly fall back – not to be seen. I can hear his labored breathing over the radio. Why is he breathing so hard? I watch as he stops and reaches for his ear piece.

"Down there." He points and quickly disappears down a hill.

We pick up our pace and see the edge of a town – hidden. Korangal Valley, I think. The broad thoroughfare is all that remains of whatever stood there. It's a lot like any abandoned town I've seen before, except it is very much alive – with people. It's a familiar and also a disturbing site. An unsettling juxtaposition of the old world and the new.

"Fall back." Jay's voice filters through the radio. "Turning the radio off."

We position ourselves on a hill close enough to still see him, but far enough that we won't be able to get to him if anything goes sideways. This fact alone sends dread down my spine and it pricks every nerve in my body. I try to ignore it.

"What now?" Antonio asks.

"We have to let Jay do his thing. This is as far as we can go without putting him or us in danger."

I look in my binoculars and see him stop in front of what looks like the centerpiece of the town – a theater. The Grand Palace. Like the rest of the town, it is badly damaged and its facade is shoddily fixed up. But still standing. Two men exit the theater and eye him up and down. They exchange words. I can't hear them. They pat him down and usher him in. Fear squeezes my chest so tight that I find myself struggling to breathe.

"I think we should have some boots on the ground," I suggest.

"No," Hank shakes his head. "This is not our place. Everyone goes home tonight."

"What about Jay? We can't just sit here and wait. We need to do something," I say.

"Jay can handle himself," Hank says, then adds, "He is more valuable to them alive..." _Than dead._

The idea is supposed to be reassuring, but I find no comfort in it. I grit my teeth at the thought of sitting here and waiting hours for him to return. Not knowing what is going on is worse than the fear of going along with him. However, all I can do is wait hope Jay is okay.

x

It's been almost three hours and Jay still hasn't come out. I can't just sit here and wait anymore. It's not in my nature. Against my (and anyone's) better judgement, I venture down towards the town.

"Erin!" I hear Hank's loud whisper. "Come back here. You're going to get yourself hurt!"

I stop briefly to think about his words. I know it's dangerous and we don't really know anything about this place, but I can only think about one thing now, Jay. I pick up my pace and continue descending the hill.

"Danmit!" I hear Hank say and it's the last thing I hear from him.

I round the corner and find an entrance to the theater from an alley. The door is locked, but I'm an expert at picking locks, specially these old ones. In minutes I gain access and slip inside. I'm behind the stage, I can tell. I walk around until I'm in the main hall. This once grand theater has been largely gutter – seats are torn out, fixtures and fitting stripped, curtains ripped from the windows. Looking out over the stage, I can see the royal box, which looks like it's been converted into an office of sorts. I can tell the seats were removed and replaced by a desk facing inward, a chandelier hanging above it. The whole set up seems gaudy and ostentatious – the work of someone who wants to project an aura of power, I figure.

I climb slowly up the stairs towards it until I hear voices. I take a tentative peak inside and all I see is a tall man seated in a battered leather armchair behind the desk. The man is older than most I've seen –older than Hank. Though his skin is weathered by the elements, he appears healthy and well-groomed. A rich mane of hair, full set of teeth.

"You and I should be in business more often," I hear the man behind the desk say.

"I think we will keep this a onetime deal," I hear Jay's voice and the tightening my chest eases a notch. _He is okay._

"I can make you a very rich man," he says. "Just name your price and I can make it happen."

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm good."

"I haven't met anyone like you in a while," the old man says, his voice even and nonchalant. "But I'm a man of my word. You hold up your end of the deal and your friend is free to walk out of here."

I don't hear Jay's reply, instead I hear a sound that's hard to place. Something like a THUMP. Them all at once, I catch a sharp blow to the side of my face, followed by different shock-waves of pain. Instinctively, I take a swing, but feel nothing but the open air. I look up, and I see the person I'm after. He's easily around six-feet tall, and looks like he's out for blood - my blood. I quickly lean backward to readjust my balance. Another two show up.

I run forward, ramming into their tough brick-like bodies, rapidly jabbing my fist back and forth. I try to block their kicks, but one catches me on the side, burning the whole way as it passes by me. I don't stop. Without hesitation I reach for my knife and jab one of them on his side. I pull the knife back and ram into the other's throat, kicking him to the floor with one blow. I quickly look over and see that I'm surrounded.

Three man, every bit as horrifying as the two I just laid out, grab me and drag me from the hallway to the royal-box turned office. I kick and scream. These men are filthy, their stench overpowering my nose.

"Look at what I found spying outside," the six-foot brigand leader says and throws me in the middle of the room. I fall on all fours. My eyes lock with Jay's and I see that he has a line going from his arm to a blood bag. _They are taking his blood._

"She's with me," Jay pipes up immediately. He stares back at me and I read fear, pain, love and deep anguish in his eyes. "She was just checking on me. She is not a spy," he says.

"I ain't too sure about that," the leader says. "She put two of our men down."

"Is that so?" The old man behind the desk says. He makes a small movement with his hand and all of a sudden there is a line of his men, right outside the door. He walks closer to me and looks me up and down before licking his lips. I stop being scared and became disgusted.

"Two more bags," Jay pipes us. I watch as he carefully gets to his feet. "I can give you two more bags and she walks too."

"Two more bags?" The older man asks skeptically. He walks towards a cracked mirror on the wall and checks his reflection. He adjusts his tie as he contemplates Jay's offer. "Yong man, you're going to drain yourself."

"I promise I can give you two more bags, but she walks too."

It is only then that I see a short guy, messy hair, dirty clothes crouching down on a chair in a corner of this makeshift office. I notice that his skin is pale white, almost transparent. He appears ghost-like and almost supernatural. _Mouse,_ I think.

"It's hard to pass up an offer like that. I know I won't get this chance again." The old man is silent for a moment, staring me straight in the eyes. "Two more bags and I let her walk." The old man says and I feel like the worse human on the face of this shitty planet.

x

"It was a pleasure doing business with you," the old man says.

Jay is so weak and pale. He can barely walk without our help. Mouse has one of his arms around his shoulder and the other is around me. We need to get him out of here fast. I'm scare he's gone go into hypovolemic shock. We drag him out of this hellhole of a town and towards the hill. Halfway up, the team comes rushing down to help.

"What happened?" Adam says. "What's wrong with Jay?"

"He had to donate blood in exchange for _our_ release." Mouse says bitterly. "This one got caught spying, so Jay offered an extra _two_ bags for her release."

Everybody quiets. Hank looks disapprovingly at me. He doesn't say anything. He knows I am already feeling bad enough without him saying, "I told you so".

"You Mouse?" Antonio asks.

"Yes. Well, my name is Greg Gerwitz, but everyone calls me Mouse."

"We've been looking for you," Hank says dryly. "Now, we need to get Jay back to the Refuge ASAP."

The drive back is quiet. Jay's head is on my lap. His skin is cold and clammy and his lips are thin and bluish. His breathing is rapid and shallow and his heart is beating so fast it seems like it's going to leave his chest. The fresh puncture wounds in his arms are purple and caked with dried blood. Guilt consumes me whole, burning a path straight to my soul. It makes me feel despicable. I know I shouldn't have gone in after Jay, and this retched feeling pales in comparison to how Jay must be feeling.

At the Refuge Jay is taken to the infirmary. IV in his arms and electrodes everywhere else. Dr. Rhodes gives him a shot of epi to improve circulation and assures the team that he will be fine, his body just needs to time to recover. "Nothing he hasn't done before," Dr. Rhodes says offhandedly. I know he didn't mean it as a jab, but his words cut deep. I can hear everyone's thoughts as loud as a bullhorn: _Nothing he hasn't done for you._

I chew on my bottom lip and blink back the tears that has gathered, threatening to spill like a broken dam.

Everyone leaves and I sit with Jay, waiting for him to open his eyes. I lose track of time, but eventually I see him forcing his eyes to open. Even in the grayness of this room, I can see the blue of his irises, the clarity that is in them. He slowly pans his head to see his surroundings.

"Hey," I say. "How are you feeling?"

A smile pulls the corner of his chapped lips. "Better now."

My lips tremble and the dam finally breaks. The flood from my eyes stream down my face and pool at the corners of my mouth. "I'm so sorry," I tell him. "I shouldn't have gone…I-It is all m-my fault. I should have listened but-l"

"-Hey, hey," he says, extends his hand, and gently cups my face. I lean into his touch. "It's all good. I'm good."

Slowly, he wipes my tears away with his thumb. He pulls my face close to his and kisses me on my forehead, then on my lips - the tender gesture breaks me. I place my hand on his chest and kiss him back. My knees go weak and I melt into him, my whole body feeling like gelatin, almost like the earth below my feet is shaking, but it isn't an earthquake I'm feeling. I'm feeling relief, love and joy.

I don't deserve him. He is too good for me.

He breaks off the kiss and leans his forehead against mine. "Are you okay?"

The concern lining his face touches me deep in my core. I watch his eye peering at the right side of my face. Although the swelling has gone down, it is bruised purple, from my forehead to the top of the cheekbone.

"I'm fine. Just a few scratches."

"Maybe you should have Dr. Rhodes take a look," he says ghosting his hand over my right cheek.

"It's just a bruise," I tell him. "It will fade eventually."

He plants a final kiss on my lips and he is halfway to leaning back on the pillow when he suddenly bolts up. "Where's Mouse?"

"Probably at the pen with the guys."

In one swift move he pulls the IV out of his arm. "I need to find him," he says and swivels his feet off the bed.

"Wait, wait… you need to rest," I try to stop him, but he wobbles to his feet.

"I'm fine, just... lightheaded." He takes a few tentative steps until he finds his footing.

I don't have the strength to fight him on this. My brain has been thrown into a blender with all these different emotions and I can't even think straight. "C'mon them," I say, knowing I won't convince him otherwise. I take his arm and drape it around my shoulder. "Let me help you."

When we get to the bullpen, Jay wobbles away from me. "Where are they holding Mouse?"

"Hey, man. He's fine. You should rest," Alvin says. "We got it from here."

"No," Jay shakes his head. He brushes his hand over his head as if he can remove the pain as easily as a piece of lint. "I want to talk to him. Is he back there?" Jay asks, but doesn't wait for an answer. He trots to the back where he finds Mouse in an interrogation room with Hank and Antonio. Mouse appears to be typing away on a laptop in front of him.

Jay pulls the door open. "Mouse."

"Jay, you should be resting," Hank says, though he doesn't look surprised to see him there.

Jay looks between Hank and Mouse. "Everything good?" Jay asks, I can see the worry in his eyes.

Mouse doesn't even look up. He continues to type away on the laptop with manic focus. Only when he places the final click does she look up.

"All set," Mouse says. He turns the screen around and there is, the blueprint to the Aedes.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Your input is always welcomed! Cheers!**


	12. Chapter 12

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 **[M]**

* * *

 **Jay's POV.**

Erin hasn't been herself lately.

After what happened at Korangal Valley things have been strained. She seems distant, distracted. I feel like I'm always asking if she's okay, on repeat, but all I get is a muffled 'yes,' that I'm certain is the furthest thing from the truth. I know she's blaming herself, suffering behind a wall of guilt for what happened. I can't stand seeing her sadness and not taking it away, not trying to erase it when I know I can. But I'm trying to be patient and not interfere with her space. I tell myself, _Everything is okay; she said she's all right. If she needs my help she'll ask me._

I'm clearly on edge.

It's early when I see Erin heading for the bathroom, shower bag in hand. She looks so miserable and downcast. My heart breaks. An idea pops in my head and before I know it, I'm following behind her. She goes inside a shower stall, and moments later I hear the water running. I check to see if there is anyone else in the bathroom. Empty. I take one of those 'closed for cleaning' signs and slap it on the door outside.

I strip out of my clothes quickly, leaving it in a pile on the floor, before stepping into the shower behind her.

Startled, she jumps a little. "Oh my god!" Erin gasps, a flush spreading across her cheeks. "Jay…what are you…?"

I pull her to me and kiss her long and languidly, hot water spraying across our cheeks. "I thought I might give you a hand. Help you take your mind off of things," I reply with a wink.

"People are going to come in," she protests, lifting up on her tippy toes to look around.

"Don't worry. I took care of it."

"How...?"

"The bathroom is closed for cleaning." I kiss her and any other protests dies on her lips. I take the shampoo from her hand and say, "Let me," and squeeze some out into my palm. I lather it and then gently cup her head with my fingers. I rub the shampoo into her hair, gently massaging her scalp. I can feel her mind and body relaxing a bit.

"Good?" I ask needlessly.

"Yes," she croons on a blissful sigh.

I pull her under the spray and proceed to help her get the suds out of her hair. I rub some conditioner next. Then it is the body wash, only instead of using a washcloth, I use my hands. Rubbing the soap into her skin. Along her arms, over her belly, until my hands trail the curve of her waist where I know there are a few bruises - souvenirs she got Korangal Valley. Most are fading and turning yellow, although a few on her ribs are still green. I kiss her bruised skin, before turning her so that her back is to me. I knead her shoulders, gently at first, then a little stronger.

I continue to make slow circles with my hands over her shoulders. I take my time kneading the knots underneath her skin, down her back and then around her stomach, up to her breasts where her nipples are tight with arousal. I almost cave, push her against the wall and slide home. But I don't. This is for her, and only her.

"Jay," she moans, her head failing forward.

I know what she wants, where she probably wants my hands, but I'm not done yet. I get down on my knees and pay tribute to her legs. I stroke her thighs and knees and ankles. I notice how different points I touch cause her to relax and moan. I've never done this, never thought about doing this until today, but there is something about us in this shower stall that seems incredibly intimate. I think Erin feels it too.

I want to memorize her here.

Only when I'm satisfied that I've touched every part of her, do I stand and lean my chest against her back. I circle an arm around her stomach, my left palm flat against her sex. My length throbbing, pulsing against the soft curve of her ass. I feel like I'm going to explode.

"Jay, just…"

"What?"

"Anything," she rasps.

I drop my head against her shoulder and kiss her, nipping at her skin. In her ear I whisper, "I got you."

I turn her in my arms and kiss her lips. I look at her, thinking how beautiful she is like this. All ready. All mine.

I trap her hands over her head and place tiny kisses along her jaw and down her throat. A soft moan escapes her lips. I release her wrist to run my hands along her curves. My thumbs tease her nipples into two tight buds. I suck one into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the nub until Erin whimpers with need. Then, I move to suckle the other breast.

"This is crazy," she says. Each syllable punctuated by a jerky intake of breath. However, there is no concern in her voice because she knows I would never do anything that would jeopardize what we have. I love knowing that.

"What?" I lick the full curve beneath her breasts as my hand knead the flare of her hips.

"We," breath. "Are going to…" breath. "Get caught." She twists her fingers into my hair.

She's not wrong, though I don't tell her that. I need to hurry – not hurry, but carry on.

I turn Erin around, her back to me, as stinging nettles of hot water hit my back. I bend her over, pressing her hands to the tile. I push her thighs apart, before cupping her sex and sliding my fingers up into her. I can't help my smile when Erin gasps and inhales deeply. I feel a surge of hot desire as my fingers slide through her already slippery, swollen folds. Erin can't stop herself from moving with my touch, her hips pushing into the rhythmic pulse of my fingers. I find the spot inside her that makes her shudder and I focus my attention there. As I rub her a little faster, her back arches and she moans.

"Not...yet..." she says breathlessly. "Please, not yet."

"You're so close-"

"I want you," Erin moans, biting her lips.

I place an open-mouthed kiss between her shoulder blades. "This is for you," I tell her.

"Jay" she shakes her head. "I want _you," s_ he begs huskily.

I don't have it in me to deny her that. I lean her forward and kiss her neck once, gently positioning myself between her legs. One push and our bodies easily join, as if we were made to fit together. Her heat and wetness circuits my mind. I push inside her deeper and she groans my name. The hot water pours over us as I hold her hips steadily and continue to push deep inside her. I have to grit my teeth to stop myself from coming right then and there.

Knowing I am on the edge, I move my hands between her legs again, sliding my fingers against her as she pushes back against me. When she sucks in her breath, I know I'm doing something right. It isn't long before I feel her tighten around me. I hear her cry out my name and I know in this moment she belongs entirely to me.

I let go then.

Together we lean against the tiled wall, breathing heavily. My fingers continue to coax her as the final waves of her orgasm wash over her. Erin exhales her pleasure and I hold her tight against my chest, waiting until she's relaxed and her breathing has slowed. I feel a smug satisfaction at pulling this off.

This is what it feels like, I realize, to care for someone so deeply so intensely. A wave of emotion overcomes me. I kiss her hair, between her shoulder blades, and nuzzle her neck. Then simply hold her, feeling the hot water beating onto my back for a moment longer.

"You good?" I ask, gently sucking at the skin between her neck and shoulders.

She tilts her head to give me better access. "I'm good," she replies. "If you leave a mark, I'll have to explain…"

I smile against her kin. "Aren't I always careful?"

"Mmm, most of the time."

But not always. She's had to wear a turtleneck to hide my enthusiasm on more than one occasion.

Eventually we recover and rinse off. Then I pull her against me and turn the water off. I take her towel off the rack and dry her as thoroughly as I had washed her.

"Okay, I think you need to sneak on out of here now before anyone suspects something." She smiles and leans up on her toes to kiss my cheek.

I kiss the top of her head. Kiss it again. I dry and dress myself quickly. Right before I leave Erin calls back.

"Jay?"

"Yeah?" I poke my head inside.

"Thank you." She smiles, dimples deeply engraved in her cheeks.

I nod and head out. I think I finally got through to her.

x

It's no surprise that Mouse is a great addition to the intelligence team. His computer knowledge and overall ability to hack into any server gives us unforeseen advantages. Not only do we have the blueprint to the Aedes, but information on their top officers. The team has been working day and night trying to come up with a solid strategy to dismantle the Aedes operation. But we've hit a wall. Come to find out, their servers have a lot of redundancies in access, which makes infiltrating almost impossible.

"Why can't we just do what we were going to do before?" Antonio asks.

"Our previous plan relied on having someone on the inside," I remind him. "We no longer have that. And I can bet that the pipe entrance to the reservoir is no longer an option. It's probably sealed and heavily guarded now."

I watch Erin from my periphery push herself up from her desk, and pace round the pen.

"What's on your mind, kid?" Hank asks.

Erin stops and faces the team. "What If we mess with something simple, like their lights – make them turn off when it's not supposed to," Erin suggest. "Mouse, you can do that, right?"

"But what good will flickering their lights do?" Ruzek interjects.

"Hear me out." Screwing up her face in added concentration, she says, "If we mess with little things like their lights, or their camera displays, they will need to disable their firewalls to see what the problem is. When they do we can infiltrate."

Mouse looks intrigued. "You're right. They would have to do a total system shutdown to reset the grid if they thought it was malfunctioning."

"So," I chime in. "When their systems are down we could potentially introduce a computer virus that can bypass their firewall."

"Theoretically," Mouse says.

"Can you do it?" Hank asks. "Can you make this virus?"

"I think so. I would have to engineer a virus that alters every time it replicates, making it difficult for the Aedes to detect it once its systems are up and running," Mouse says. "What coding platforms do you guys have?

We all look at each other with what feels like a collective shrug.

"We don't have any," Adam says.

"No wonder I was able to hacked your servers five minutes after I got here." Before anyone has a chance to speak, Mouse adds, "Don't worry, I've implemented a few safety measures since."

Hank shakes his head. "So, you need a coding software-"

"-And proper hardware too," Mouse adds.

Hank nods his head wordlessly. "Well, who's scavenging this week?" Adam and Atwater raise their hands. "Take Mouse with you and see if you can find what he needs." Hank turns to face everybody else. "In the mean time, talk to your informants to see if we can get these things on the black market. But keep in mind, we don't want anyone knowing what we are up too."

Everyone disbands and I approach Erin. She looks relaxed, her face completely calm, such a contract from the last couple of days. I slowly reach my fingers to touch hers.

"Hey, that was a really good idea," I tell her.

She gives me a shy smile. It lights up her whole face and touches her hazel eyes, setting them softly aglow. "I used to mess around with people when I was younger, though this will be at a much larger scale," she says.

I know she's isn't proud of her past and rarely brings it up, so when she offers little tidbits like this I try not to make a big deal out of it.

"So, do you have any informants?"

"Actually, I do," she says. "Thinking of going to pay one a visit this afternoon."

"Can I come?" I ask. When she narrows her eyes at me I add, "To keep you company."

Erin rolls her eyes but smiles, aware that I have an ulterior motive for asking- to make sure she's safe.

"Sure. We can head out after lunch."

"It's a date then," I wink and she playfully nudges my arm.

"It's a date."

x

I meet Erin after lunch and we take off west on route 30 until we reach a desert little town. It's a primitive sprawling village of tents and barn-like structures built from corrugates iron, rotten wood, and molded plastic– materials scavenged from the old world.

Huddle residents are dressed in little more than rags, many wearing capes and hats to shield them from the blazing sun. I watch Erin standing at the edge of the town, reluctant to enter, but she braces herself and walks in. I follow closely behind as she rounds a corner, entering the center of the town.

Eyes all around glare at us as we pass by. Erin looks straight ahead and doesn't return their looks, just continues crossing the street as if she a permanent fixture in his little town. I can see she's headed towards a building with a pictogram of a lightning bolt suspended above its door.

Erin pushes the door open and a bicycle bell dings. Whatever this place once was, it's now a kind of post-apocalyptic electronic store. Shelves display a variety of goods: engine parts, old electrical writing, and small appliances. An old generator rumbles nosily, powering strings of multicolored blinking lights that hang all around.

Behind a counter, a guy in a leather apron, pouring the remnants of a can of motor oil into a bottle, tilts his head enough to see Erin. "Erin Lindsay?"He says her name in a question. Then he notices me and reaches surreptitiously behind the counter. I turn fully towards him and see that he's pointing a pump-action shotgun at me.

"I don't know you," he says.

I slowly raise my hands.

"He's with me Eddie," Erin says calmly .

"Who are you?" He insists, gun still cocked. His hands are trembling, his finger tight on the trigger. This man needs to be talked down carefully. I look at Erin and she wordlessly tells me to stand down. I could easily take his gun and mash his face against the counter.

"He is just a customer, Eddie," Erin says.

"A customer with a gun." He nods towards the gun on my hip.

Erin reaches into my holster and swipes the gun. "There, you happy?"

He lowers his gun, but "You don't bring a gun into town unless you live here. Don't you know that?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that," I say. Though I take note that he doesn't seem to have a problem with Erin carrying a gun.

Eddie lets out an annoyed sigh. "What do you want, Erin?" He asks.

"Scripting tools. Coding software," she tells him.

"Java?"

"No, not Java. Python. C++, Hypertext Processor…"

"I don't have them."

"Don't jerk me around, Eddie," Erin cautions him.

"You know I don't play like that," he says.

Erin moves to take something out of her pack and Eddie's hand goes for his shotgun again. He raises it nervously. I immediately take two steps forward, but Erin raises her hand for me to stay put.

"It's okay, Eddie. I'm just going to get something out of my pack, okay?"

Eddie watches her like a hawk as she opens her pack and pulls out a generator battery.

When Eddie sees, he gasps. "Holy shit!"

Erin places the battery on the counter. Eddie looks it over with awe, like it's a priceless historical artifact. "Where'd find this? Does it work?"

"It does. All it needs is a charge." Erin pushes the battery towards him. "For your troubles."

The man looks stupefied.

"Three days, Eddie. I'm giving you three days for you to get me those software," Erin warns. "If you give me the runaround, I will use your shot gun on your kneecaps and I will put this building to the torch and I will watch it burn with you inside."

Eddie nods vehemently, his eyes wide as saucers.

And with that she turns to leave. I watch Eddie gulp. There wasn't a hint in Erin's voice that she didn't mean every word. It scares me and excites me. This girl is bound to keep me on my toes.

I catch up to her and ask, "You're going to burn him alive?"

She half scoff and laughs. "No, but he doesn't know that. I just needed him to know I'm serious. I will shoot his kneecap off, though. Don't be fooled by his victim act. Eddie is well connected."

"Okay," I say, and consider asking the question that's been on the tip of my tongue. "So, how do you know Eddie?"

I can see that Erin is taken aback by my question. She thinks for a moment and looks at me with a hint of uneasiness. "When I was younger I spent some time here." Erin grits her teeth and forces a smile up at me.

I take her hand and squeeze it. Again, another shared little snippet of her life before me. Erin's letting me in. It may be little by little, but it's a start.

x

By the time we get back to the Refuge it's night time. We unpack and I see the light on in the equipment room. I peak my head inside and see that Mouse is there, surrounded by a stack of computer parts, tampering with the junk metals and pieces he probably salvaged from earlier today.

I turn to Erin, "I'm going to check on Mouse," I say motioning with my head towards the equipment room, "I'll catch you later." I pull her against me and gently plant a kiss on her lips.

She smiled up at me. "I will be waiting."

I lean down and steal a second kiss off her lips. I love how I can just do that now. I can't wait to pull her into my arms later and bury my hands in her hair and drink in her scent, her softness, and the sweet sounds she makes when she's melted against me.

Erin leaves and I lightly tap the door frame of the equipment room, startling Mouse out of his trance.

"Oh, hey Jay."

"Hey man, find anything good?" I ask, taking a seat next to him. "We might get those coding programs for you. Just waiting on Erin's contact to come through."

"That's a step in the right direction," he says. "We didn't find anything of use. Just lots of scrap, and this..." He points to a cooler and when I open there's a 6-pack inside, except there's only three bottles left. "Help yourself," he says.

I take two and pop the old caps off and offer him one. I bring the bottle to my lips and take a swig. The beer tastes flat and sharp at the same time.

Mouse then produces a camcorder, placing it down next to a computer. "Look at this beauty," he says. He opens a drawer, rummaging through the contents until he produces a set of wires. "I think these will suffice," he murmurs to himself and plugs the camcorder into his computer. "Camera surveillance," he says proudly.

I smile. I missed seeing him in his element. "So, how are you liking the Refuge?"

"Beats anywhere, really," he says not taking his eyes off the computer screen.

"I hear you." I say and take a long pull from my bottle.

"I bet you're liking here," Mouse says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Seeing anyone?"

I smile – how can I not? Thinking about Erin has that effect on me. "You can say that."

Mouse chuckles. "Erin, right? The girl almost got you killed."

I roll my eyes at him. "She was checking up on me. I would've done the same."

"I'm not judging. Erin seems great," Mouse says. "I was just stating facts."

I ball up a piece of paper and chuck it at him, but he bats it away.

"Anyways," I say. "We're trying to keep things on the down low, so…"

"You don't have to worry about me spilling the beans." He adjusts himself on his chair. "So, she's okay with you being… _you_?"

I chuckle. "What? Being a donor with a big ol' target on my back?"

Mouse smiles. "Yeah, that."

I think for a moment. "I don't know if she really understands what it means. She's been sheltered at the Refuge for years and she can't fathom the atrocities the Aedes is capable of. I tried to keep my distance from her, but it became nearly impossible."

Mouse shakes his head and smiles. "She's already got you whipped."

I chuckle because it's true. There's nothing I won't do for Erin. "It's like a freight train that I'm powerless to stop."

Mouse coos and makes kissy faces to the air.

"What are you? Seven?" I try to sound composed, but a smile forces its way onto my face despite how much I am fighting it. "I seem to remember finding you crying in that shack by the woods when that blond girl broke up with you."

"My dog had died, you dick. It had nothing to do with her."

I laugh out loud this time. We sit together in silence for some time, until Mouse says, "Have you told her you love her?"

Startled, I look at him. "What...? I—no."

An impatient look crosses his face. "You clearly love her."

"I like her a lot," I counter. Though, who am I kidding? I _love_ that girl. So much that it scares me. But I'm not ready to say it out loud. Also, I don't want to scare her in case she doesn't feel the same way. I will understand if she finally comes to grip with this situation and decides that _this_ is not for her. Wouldn't blame her. Although, I don't plan on leaving her. Ever.

I can see Mouse wants to make some wiseass remark, but then doesn't. After a long slug of his beer, he says, "You deserve something good." He shrugs. "For a change."

I chuckle and say, "You too."

"I will drink to that." He raises his beer. "Cheers."

"Cheers."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Your input is always welcomed. A new story arc will begin unraveling soon and I hope you guys like it. =)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you for all you reviews! This fandom is simply best ever!**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

 **[M]**

* * *

 **Erin's POV.**

It's been three days and I haven't heard from Eddie. It's time to pay him a visit. Since I know Jay will invite himself along, with the guise of keeping me company, when I know he just wants to make sure I'm safe, I tell him to meet me at the doc after breakfast. I decide I want to take the 300, I want be in and out of that miserable little town as quick as possible. The time I spent there is burned into the back of my head, and I fear the memories will come back to haunt me if I linger a single moment longer.

"You ready to shoot a kneecap?" Jay says teasingly, coming down the stairs with his pack.

I roll my eyes. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"Your lighter ready too?"

I don't miss the smug smile on his face. My guy thinks he is funny.

 _My guy._

Caught in the moment, I stare at him. Jay in dark wash jeans and a t-shirt is unlike any other man in any other clothes. He just wears them so well. His jeans sit low on his hip bones, his t-shirt all snug across his shoulders, chest and biceps, but obviously not because he is trying for that look. That's just how the t-shirt fits. His hair is combed to the side, his face ruggedly handsome. The scruff he seems to never shave off nowadays, makes him seem more rugged. I'd never imagined someone could take my breath away, but there have been moments in the last month that has happened.

I'm not sure how long I stand there, but Jay walks up to me and pulls me from my daze with a kiss on my lips.

"You ready?"

"Uh, yeah… I'm ready."

We hop in the 300 and hit the road.

x

We arrive that the settlement a little after ten. The sun is high and blazing and in the broad open plain the heat is oppressive. I park a little out of the way and hide the 300 under a tarp. As we walk along the warped roadway an unshakable and unreasonable feeling that something isn't right hits me. I can feel the air being slightly amiss. It's lingering, like a ghost with unfinished business. I try to brush it off, but the feeling continues to hover like a dark cloud.

I can see that Jay has caught on to my uneasiness. He keeps his eyes trained on me, brushing his fingers against mine every so often - as if his touch alone can somehow absorb my restlessness. I try to ignore it.

We arrive at Eddie's shop and I spot him behind the counter, looking worried. It's almost like his heart sinks the minute he sees us.

"H-Hey, t-there Erin," he says cautiously.

"Hey, Eddie. Got the software?" I ask, straight to the point. I want to get the hell out of here.

"It's uh… It's downloading. It's going to take a little longer than I thought," he says, nervous smile on his face.

I lean in closer. I smell a rat.

"You remember what I said would happen if I came back here and you didn't have what I needed?"

"It's right here!" He motions to a computer. "It's just gonna take a while longer. I swear."

I look him up and down. Hard to be certain, but I'm pretty sure he's lying. A cold shiver runs down my spine. Somebody spooked him.

"Eddie, hand me the software. Now," I demand.

"It's…it's not ready. Come back later." His hands are shaking.

I pull my gun out and aim it at his head. I motion to Jay and he jumps over the counter and inspects the antiquated computer.

"If you move, I'll shoot," I warn him.

Eddie doesn't blink.

After rummaging through the computer, Jay pulls a USB out. "Got it," he says and places in his pocket.

"So, I guess it was done downloading, huh?" I take two steps forwards and touch the barrel of my gun to his forehead. "Who was here? What did they want?" I ask.

Jay walks toward me, a puzzled frown on his face. "Erin-"

"I'm going to ask one more time, Eddie, who was here and what did they want?"

Eddie looks like he'd seen a ghost, which is saying something considering he already looked pale as a sheet. It takes him a moment, but he manages to compose himself enough to say. "I don't know who they were. They had guns. Big guns," he says nervously fidgeting with the cuffs on his shirt. "They c-came looking for s-someone." He bites his lower lip as his eyes moves from me to Jay.

My heart sinks.

I smash my gun on the counter. The glass display spiderwebs, but doesn't break. "What did you tell them?"

"I . . . I . . . I . . . d-don't remember," he stutters nervously.

Without an ounce of hesitation, I shoot him on his thigh. A flesh wound. Eddie falls to the ground and shrieks in pain. "Uuuhhh!" He moans and begins to rock back and forth on the dirty floor. "OOOOHHHH! It hurts."

"Relax. It's a flesh wound, barely scratch," I say. I aim my gun at the middle of his forehead. "Now, I'm not playing any games. What did they want?"

"H-Him. T-They were looking for him," Eddie points towards Jay.

"How do you know they were looking for him?"

"Erin, let's go," Jay interjects and starts to pull on my arm. "We got what we came for."

"They said they would kill me," Eddie cries, clutching the gash on his leg. "T-They are coming for him."

"When?" I say, my finger on the trigger.

"Now," Eddie whispers.

My mind churns, in despair and confusion. My heart beats frantically against my chest.

"Let's go," Jay insists. There is a sense of panic in his voice. "We gotta go!"

As soon as we leave, we hear engines nearing. Within a couple of seconds, the little village is surrounded by a circle of armed hunters. They begin to violently usher everyone in the village out of their quarters and into the center of town. We are pushed and shoved from all directions. I'm vaguely aware of commands being shouted, hurled at us, because my heart is pounding a deafening sound dangerously blocking out the noises in my surroundings.

Jay grabs me by my shoulders and starts shaking me. He is mumbling something, I can't tell what he is saying, but I can make out the words, _run_ and _go._ He puts the USB inside my pocket. "Make a run for it!"

Snapping out of my stupor I say, "What? No! I'm not leaving you!" I tell him.

"No! You have to go. Now!"

He pushes me away, but I can't leave him. There is no way I'm walking out of here without him. He is _my perso_ n. My guy. "Jay, stop it. I'm not going anywhere. We are going to figure this out," I say stubbornly.

"Please, Erin. Just go. You're not safe here."

I take his face in my hands and make him meet my eyes. "Jay, I'm not leaving." I interlace our fingers in case he decided to do anything heroically stupid.

In minutes, after everyone crowds at the center of town, we see the hunters pull out small hemoglobin test meters. They begin calling people one by one, pricking their fingers. They are looking for donors. They are looking for Jay. The realization makes me overcome with fear. The sweat that soaks my shirt, in an instant, goes cold.

"Erin," Jay whispers. "Go to the other side." _Away from me_. He doesn't say it, nevertheless, it is implied.

"No," I say curtly.

Then an idea pops into my head. I rip out a few threads from my shirt. I pull out my pocketknife and slice through my thigh, cutting and ripping my skin until blood begins to flow from the wound. It is painful. I don't feel a thing though because I'm only focusing on getting us out of here.

"Erin!" Jay takes a hold of my hand. "What are you doing?"

"I have an idea," I tell him, and busy myself soaking the threads from my shirt with my blood.

"Y-You're bleeding!"

Jay is a bit exasperated, but I try to keep a calm mind. I ignore his protesting shrieks and continue to soak the rags until they are drenched with blood. "Here," I take his hands and rub my blood all over it, then I take the rags and wrap it around both his palm.

"This might make it harder to get the signal from your blood." I tell him. "If they ask, say you cut yourself, or something."

Jay is silent, looking at his hands. His mouth starts to move as if he is trying to say something, but nothing comes out – all protests escape him.

"It will work," I assure him. Maybe reassuring myself in the process too.

"Your leg needs a tourniquet," Jay says quietly.

I take the bandana from my face and tie it around my leg. It's not a deep cup. I know I will be okay.

When the hunters get to us, my body is in such a state - trembling, my mind in overdrive - I don't even hear them call me. One of guards has to push me forward with the barrow of his long gun. Jay is none too pleased.

The man operating the meter is big and burly, with a closely shaven head and sunglasses. "Extend your hands," he orders and I comply. The machine pricks my fingers and in a second it beeps twice. "You're a carrier?" He asks.

"Y-yes," I tell him. The machine probably detected my recently acquired antibodies. "Got infected when I was a kid," I lie. "My brother too," I motion to Jay, standing a few feet behind me.

The burly man motions to one of his guards to usher Jay forward. He peers at Jay closely, searchingly. He draws back to stare at him, like something about him suddenly struck him.

"What happened to your hands?" He asks.

Jay looks down at his bandaged hands. Blood drip off and pools on the ground. "I sliced it on a blade while fighting off two vagrants."

The burly man looks Jay up and down again, scrutinizing every detail of him, the way one does a strange animal. He then nods and takes the meter, placing on his finger.

Beep.

"Hold on. These damn things." He bangs the meter a couple of times against his palm. "I have to do it again," he says.

My heart beats faster, the uncertainty turning into dispair.

The meter pricks his finger and we wait again. The time it takes for it to spit out an answer is the longest in my life. Seconds feels like hours, with life passing in slow motion while we wait for the inevitable outcome.

Beep. Beep.

The burly man looks at the screen. "You've carrier, too," he says nonchalantly.

Jay nods and looks at me. I see the sharp relief on his face, probably mirroring my own. But I hold my emotions in, pushing them back as far as I can. This is far from over.

"Got any family?"

"No" I shake my head. "Just us."

I'm trying to sound calm, but I'm missing it by a mile.

The burly man looks us up and down once more. My heart is nearly pounding out of my chest, my hands are clammy and uncontrollably shaking.

"Where you coming from?"

"Hebron," Jay pipes in.

"What are you doing this far south?"

"What's anyone doing south. Looking for water."

The man nods his head. He looks annoyed, angry even. "Go on now," he says dismissively. "Next," he bellows.

We give him a silent nod in response and begin walking away. My legs are shaking; my head feels like it's about to float away from my body. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I quicken my pace, feeling myself start to break. Then at the sight of the 300 I fall to the hot asphalt, tears streaming down my face.

Relief, like a warm blanket, surrounds me.

Jay kneels down on the ground, just inches from my face and I can feel his warm breath against my skin. He cradles my face and brushes his thumbs from my nose to my ears, under my eyes, wiping away the tears. He starts to apologize over and over and my heart aches. He plants a kiss on my forehead. On my nose. On one cheek then on the other. On my lips.

"I'm sorry," he says. Another kiss. "I'm so sorry."

I glance up at him; his eyes are glazed. "Stop," I tell him.

He tenses and apologizes again.

"You didn't do anything wrong." I try to sound calm, despite the turmoil inside of me. I know where his thoughts are headed.

He pulls away from me slightly. "I can't keep you safe. As long as you are with me, you'll have a target on your back too."

My mind reels at his words. "Jay, look around, we are safe-"

"-For now."

I cup my hands around his face. "That's all that matters. Here. Now. Not tomorrow."

Everything seems to be spinning, so I close my eyes and rest my head on his shoulder. I lean in closer to him, pressing my face against his neck, trying not to think about what could've happened. I've never known such fear. My heart aches. I mean it really aches. I can't picture my life without him in it. I can't picture myself holding someone else's hand or kissing another set of lips. I can't imagine not waking up to him.

I know this fear of losing him will linger in my subconscious for as long as I'm alive.

"How's your leg?" He looks at me, then down at my leg. He goes to inspect it, removing the bloody bandanna from round the wound. "You could have cut through your femoral artery, you know?"

I wince at his touch. "It's just a flesh wound. I'll survive."

"We have to get the blood stopped."

He tears the hem of his shirt and soaks them with water from his canteen. Then he begins to gently clean the wound. It takes him a few minutes, working carefully around the wound, pouring water into it and delicately removing particles of sand and anything else that might cause an infection. By the time he is finished, there are three piles of blood-soaked threads and two empty canteens. He ties a makeshift bandage around my leg, heavily padding the wound.

"This should hold until we get back to the Refuge."

"I guess we're even now." I say lightheartedly.

Jay frowns.

"You saved me. And I just saved you," I explain.

He cracks a small, watery smile. "Yeah, I guess we're even now."

X

It's been two days since the scare at village. We've had extensive meetings and debriefings about what transpired, and now we operate under a new set of precautions. It's apparent that the Aedes is actively searching for Jay. Whatever their master plan is, Jay seems to be the missing piece.

I'm just trying to forget it happened, forget the fear, forget the feeling of utter loss. I try to convince myself that it was all a bad dream. But the truth is, it wasn't a bad dream; it was very real.

Jay doesn't talk about it. I think the memory is still too raw to touch. All his fears about us being together almost came to pass – almost being the operative word here. I can feel his grief; it cuts deep within me, plunging me into a pool of sadness that feels as if it could engulf me.

We are waiting in the 300 for the team to finish scavenging a junk yard of old computers parts when I get an idea. Jay helped me out of my funk a few days ago. It's my turn to reciprocate the gesture. I look at him and he is unusually quiet, leaning back in the passenger seat, fingers fiddling aimlessly with the radio.

My hands find their way to his thigh, fingers slowly traveling upward.

He turns with a raised eyebrow. "Erin…" Jay grabs my hand. "We are the lookout."

"I know," I say and lean in and kiss him softly. Nothing has ever made my heart pound as much as being with him. And I want to show him that. I want him to know that he is worth it. Whatever he thinks I'm sacrificing or risking, it's all worth it.

"Backseat," I say.

Jay stills for a moment and studies my face. "What are you-"

"-C'mon," I persuade him.

We clamber into the backseat and I roll down the windows halfway for air. I straddle him, feeling the bulge between his legs growing. My hands go for his pants.

"Erin…" He says cautiously.

"I just want to help you take your mind off things," I tell him and skate my finger along his waist, and his muscles tighten, his blue eyes widens.

I undo his belt and zipper, and move his boxers lower, freeing him.

"We are going to do this here? Now?" He asks in disbelief.

"You won't be doing a thing." He eyes me incredulously as I slide to my knees onto the floorboard, and take him in my hand. I start to stroke him and his breath shortens with my touch.

"Jesus Erin, what are you doing?"

"If you don't know I think we have a problem." I laugh at the mixture of excitement and concern that sweeps his face. "Try to relax, okay?" I say and lower my mouth, taking his tip in ever so slightly, tasting the salty, musky flavor of him. it's the briefest of touches, my lips just on him. But he inhales sharply, his eyes turning a dark shade of blue.

"God, Erin…" he groans, his hand fisting at his sides.

I want him.

With one hand I brace myself on his thighs, and with the other I grip him firmly in place, allowing me to set a rhythm – a bit sweet and a whole lot torturous. I swirl my tongue around his tip, teasing him, feeling the softness of him. He lets out a small moan. I look up, his eyes are closed, his head is back. I let my tongue trail down his length and then all the way back up before drawing him deeper. I feel his body twitch.

"Oh God..." He grits out. I look up to see him panning his head around. "They…the, um, team…. I think…. are coming."

I check. No one's coming. "I can guarantee that the only person who will be coming is you." I watch him squirm before me. "What? You're not enjoying it?" I ask mischievously.

"I am. Too much," he groans, barely getting the words out.

"Good."

I press a kiss to his shaft and my lips surround him again. I slide my mouth up and back, and with each slick motion, I go farther down, closer to the base. Jay is getting restless, if that's the right word. He is so tense that every stroke of my tongue and caress of my lips has him teetering closer to the edge. His hands are reaching blinding against the seat to steady himself. I feel him holding back, holding tight. So when I go all the way in, letting my teeth graze his skin slightly, his whole body tightens. Then, wave after wave of pure, raw pleasure rockets through him. A moan tears from his throat and echoes in the old 300.

Jay is gasping, I can hear his heart hammering and his lungs scrambling for air as I swallow the warm, salty fluid.

"Jesus Christ, Erin," he cries out.

When he opens his eyes, I slowly pull away and move back up to straddle him again. I lean my forehead against his while he catches his breath. A huge, albeit bashful smile is pulling at the corners of his lips.

"You leave me breathless, you know that?" He playfully bites my shoulder, sending shivers down my body.

"That was the plan." I say with a grin.

"C'mon." He gently taps my bottom. "I need to get myself straight before the guys come back out."

I really don't want to move. I am rather enjoying where I am. Sighing, I move back to the driver's seat. "Fine," I mumble.

Moments later he scrambles back to the passenger seat, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. He leans close and says in rugged voice, "You're the best thing I have." He winks and bites my bottom lip, I laugh. His voice finally has some life in it.

I love that I was the one that put it there.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Also, feel free to ask any questions. I will do my best to reply. =)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you for your reviews. I'm extremely humbled by your kind words.**

 **SoFeelinfTheLove Beta'd**

 **I own nothing**

* * *

 **Jay's POV**

I can't remember the last time it rained.

Today was the type of day that I felt the need for a constant shower, hot, sticky, with rain lingering in the air but didn't fall. So, I didn't think much of it when gray clouds persisted at night, obscuring the night sky. I figured the northern winds would carry them away by dawn. However, they remained and in the middle of the night, while everyone slept, the sky decided to open up.

"Erin, wake up!" I whisper. When she doesn't move, I push her hair out of the way, nuzzling the back of her neck and breathing in deeply. She smells like vanilla and sex. "C'mon, Babe. Wake up."

Nothing.

I take her hand and I kiss her fingertips, then the inside of her wrist. Erin doesn't even make a peep. I continue kissing up her arm all the way to the crook of her neck. This time it must've tickled because she finally stirs.

"Mmmm," she moans, burying her face into the pillow.

"Babe, wake up. it's Raining!"

Instantly she sits up a bit dazed. "What? It's raining?"

"Yes, it's raining."

We jump out of bed and tiptoe to the roof. As we swing the door open large drops splatter on us. They dampen our skin, making dark splotches on the legs of my pants and the sleeves of myshirt. I feel a large drop hit my nose. Erin laughs, then leans closer and gently kisses me where the skin is still wet.

"This is amazing!" Erin exclaims as a big wet drop splashes on her cheek and runs down her face.

"I know. I can't remember the last time it rained."

"Me too."

I kiss her on her wet forehead. She gives me a kiss on my wet chin.

Soon, the crystal droplets turn to a silver sheet of rain, falling softly on us, washing away the smoky smell that always seems to linger in the air. Little ringlets are now forming on the ground where the rain-drops are collecting. Below, the patrolmen are frolicking outside as the rain intensifies.

I watch Erin tilt her face upward and close her eyes, relishing the feel of the raindrops as she spread her arms out and begins to twirl. I'm captivated by her. I block everything else except her. My eyes move up and down her wet form. The large t-shirt (my t-shirt) she's wearing is soaked through, plastering to her skin, as her hair turns dark gold from the water.

She turns to me, so that we are facing each other. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes brimmed with life, pleasure, and unmistakable warmth.

I pull Erin to me and kiss her, my hands smoothing over the wet fabric of her (my) shirt over her full breasts. I drop my hand and push it under her shirt, tracing up the soft skin of her belly, over her ribs to cup her breasts. I gently stroke her nipple and she pulls in a mixed gasp of pleasure and pain. I still.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No," she shakes her head. "It's good. I'm good."

Reassured, I kiss her so thoroughly that her body practically melts on me. I curl my hands around her bottom then, and Erin hops up, wrapping her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck. She tilts her face to the rain, letting it caress her, as I lock and suck her neck and the upper swells of her breasts. She moans seemingly displeased again. I frown. It's almost like my touch is too much, yet still not enough all at once.

"Erin." I whisper. "Talk to me."

"I'm okay," she gasps. "I'm okay. Don't stop."

I wouldn't dream of it.

I drop down to my knees, still holding her, and then lay her down on the wet ground, pushing her t-shirt up around her hips, spreading her legs. I kiss the inside of one thigh where there's now a healing scar - a memento for what she did for me - then the other. I want to cherish this once-in-a-lifetime moment, take my time with her, but Erin has other plans. She seems restless and edgy unlike I've ever seen before. In a fit of impatience, she reaches for my pants, her hands fumbling with the drawstrings of my pajama bottoms. When my dick springs free, I look down into her eyes, her whole body is radiating impatience.

I guess we're going straight to the punchline.

I slip one arm under her shoulder, holding her a little off the ground, and slide my other hand under her bottom. Then when I'm sure I won't slam her against the hard ground, I pull her underwear down and slide inside her. Her eyes flutter slightly as I bury myself in her softness.

The rain continues to pound down on us as I begin to move. I push against her, grinding my hips into hers, kissing her face, her neck, her eyelids, her hair, her earlobes, anywhere on her. Her whole body feels hot, swollen, achy with need. Her lips find my neck and her fingernails dig into me as her body responds and arches up to meet each of my thrusts.

Her heartbeat is erratic as well as her breathing. I can feel her starting to tense already, and her arousal is bringing me quickly towards my own climax.

Erin lets out a small cry, and her body goes rigid beneath me mine. I watch everything play out - her pleasure, her love, her happiness. Her core pulses around me, gripping me and bringing me to my own climax. I hear myself groan as I empty myself into her.

Sweet heaven, if I die right now, I'll die a happy man.

I lower myself next to her, pull her into my arms. The rain continues to fall on us, softly cooling off our heated bodies. The world stands still and nothing matters but the two of us and the falling rain.

x

We return to my room and dry ourselves. I step out to do a quick check around the Refuge and when I come back, Erin is looking at my calendar and counting on her fingers, muttering to herself. Knowing that whatever I do is going to startle her, I just clear my throat, letting her know that I'm back.

Erin turns around, the calendar in her hands dropping to the floor.

"Didn't mean to scare you," I say. "What are you up to?"

"Oh, um, nothing," she says dismissively. "I was just checking to see if I'm scavenging this week."

She smiles, but the look on her face tells me something is amiss. She's not telling me the whole truth.

"So, are you?" I ask.

"No." She shakes her head. "Next week."

I nod and plop down on the bed next to her. I brush her hair back, studying her face. Her green eyes are cloudy with worry.

"C'mere," I say and stretch myself out on the bed, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her down with me - her cheek flush against my chest; my throat resting on the curve of her head.

We lie here for quite some time. Erin is gently tracing the tattoo on my bicep with her fingertips. She does this, almost reverently. I feel her head rise and fall with my breaths and feel my arm rise and fall with hers. Having her like this, safe and ensconced in my arms, makes my chest swell with warmth - a feeling of complete and utter happiness that I will never get used to.

She moves her head then, tilting her face upward, and though I cannot see her eyes, I sense she is looking up at me.

"What's your biggest fear?" she asks.

The question, coming out of left field, catches me totally unprepared. "Uh…" I can't answer right away. My whole life is an episode of fear. "People getting hurt because of me," I tell her, feeling a bit vulnerable for admitting, but the words come out. "You?"

Her head feels heavier on my chest, as if she is pressing in, burrowing, hiding. She grows still. "Being alone," she tells me. "Losing you." She adds the last bit so quietly I almost don't hear her.

"Erin," I say cautiously. "I will do everything I can to make sure that will never happen," I promise, sealing my lips over her crown.

"It's just…" She lifts her face from my chest. "What if things change between us?"

I pull my head back and look in her eyes. "What things?" I ask. "Erin, nothing in this world is big enough to change how I feel about you. _That_ will never change. Ever. " I feel the _I love you_ at the tip of my tongue, but I hold it in.

"But things change," she says almost like an afterthought and rests her head back on my chest.

"Hey." I frown, moving slightly so I can look at her face. There is a vulnerability in her eyes that makes me want to wrap my arms tighter around her and never let her go. "Er, what it is?"

She is silent - unreadable, stoic expression on her face. Something's changed. She was fine moments ago. A horrible, prickling feeling creeps up my spine and digs its claws into the back of my neck. Now I'm finding it difficult to get any words out. It's like there's this awful lump in my throat.

"Erin, nothing will ever come between me and you. And if there are _changes_ , whatever they are, we will deal with them together. Got it?"

Her head moves in a barely-there nod, accepting my answer, though I have a feeling she didn't believe a word out of my mouth. She sinks back against me, moving her hand along my side then on my back, pressing me closer to her. I press my lips to her forehead and linger there, breathing her in, trying to quiet these silent qualms in that beautiful head of hers.

x

"Hey man, did you catch the rain last night?" Mouse asks as soon as I walk into the pen.

The corners of my lips pulls into a big, goofy smile. "Yeah, man. Heard it pelting against the window."

"The water reservoir is full. I went to check this morning because I thought I had dreamt it."

I chuckle and pat him on the back as I walk to my desk. I notice that Erin is not here yet. She left my room before I was even up. Thought she would be here by now. Maybe she fell right back into bed and slept right through her own alarm. I don't blame her, I'm feeling a bit drained myself. Maybe waking up in the middle of the night to see the rain wasn't the best idea. Although, I'm not regretting it.

We begin to discuss Mouse's progress with the virus. Mouse walks us through exactly what he is doing and everyone nods their head pretending to understand. To be honest, I'm not listening to what he is saying because Erin still isn't here. I'm trying not to worry, but then her words from last night, _things change,_ pop into my head. I try to ignore it. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.

However, another hour goes by and Erin is still a no show. I'm on the verge of going to go look for her when she finally walks in, looking very tired and wore out. Her eyes are red a puffy. Was she crying?

"Sorry, I got caught up talking to Platt," she says apologetically and leans against her desk.

I stare at her, at the unusual set of her mouth: thin lips, clamped together - holding back the truth. I tell myself she probably didn't want to broadcast the real reason she was late this morning, but maybe she'll tell me if I ask.

Needless to say, I have no idea what is being discussed during today's bullpen meeting. Despite my attempt to tame my thoughts, my mind is flashing wildly, projecting all these scenarios that could explains Erin's sudden change in demeanor. I start to get really uptight. Shit! I'm going to lose my marbles.

"I want everyone with your eyes and ears open," Hank says pulling me out of my daze. I look at the clock it and it's almost ten. "If the Aedes gets any wind of what we're doing, it's over. Make sure your stories are air tight. Erin," Hank turn in her direction. "Any word on Eddie?"

Erin is leaning against desk, seemingly deep in thought.

"Erin?"

Startled, she turns and smiles faintly. "Eddie? Um, last I heard he had been taken."

"Do you know by who?"

"City hunters would be my guess. They were probably upset when their ambush didn't pan out. Since the intel came from him, my guess is that Eddie is six feet under now."

Hank nods. "Did the settlers see anything?"

"If they did, they are not talking. Probably too scared," Erin answers.

Hank sighs. "Let's put a lid on this until Mouse is finished with the virus. In the meantime, help patrol check out reservoirs around here for rain water. We want to collect and store as much as we can."

We all nod and disperse. Hank calls Erin into his office and I pretend to do work on my desk while I wait for her to be done.

I've been waiting for about fifteen minutes, when Adam approaches my desk and catches me staring at Hanks office.

"She okay?" He asks.

"Oh, um, I think so?" I say, though I phrase it like a question. "I wouldn't know though."

Adam chuckles, tips his head back, and makes a soft mocking sound. "You're not a very good liar, you know that?" He holds up his hand to halt the protest I was prepared to make. "Not here to pry on whatever you have going on with Erin. Just wanted to ask if you want to go check out the Fox reservoir. I heard it's full."

I look back at Hank's office, then back at Adam. It will do me no good to keep sulking here. "Sure. But I'll drive."

"Okay, I will meet you at the doc in five," he says.

We head out and the drive mostly in silent. Some parts of the roads are wet and muddy. The air smells moist, a humid coolness clings to the inside of my noses and coats it. It's clean and refreshing. I'm trying not to think of Erin but it's impossible.

Adam breaks the silence and says, "I want to ask Kim out."

"Kim from Patrol?"

"Yes," he says and looks at me for my opinion.

"Do it," I encourage. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"She could say no." Adam runs a hand through his hair. "Look, we talk, and we hang-out, but that's it," he says. "I want to leave the friendzone, if you know what I mean."

I nod. "I think you just got to do it. Just ask her. Rip that Band-Aid out. She might just say yes."

"Easy for you to say. I'm not a super human donor."

I roll my eyes. "Trust me, it's not an aphrodisiac."

"Yeah, yeah," he says dismissively. "All I'm saying is that saving Erin's life might have given you a few bonus points."

I chuckle. "Just ask her out, man. It's not like there are a lot of options. She probably won't mind settling for you."

Adam punches my arms jokingly.

We arrive at the reservoir shortly after, but it seems the earth below absorbed all the water. It's just a muddy swamp now. Probably can't pump anything out of here.

I look at Adam and he shrugs, "It was worth a try."

We drive back and my foot presses a little harder on the gas. I just want to get to the bottom of what's going on with Erin. I feel like her little admission last night is just the tip of the iceberg. She isn't the type to let herself be vulnerable - this alone raises a red flag. I feel like something terrible is about to happen. The proverbial other shoe is about to drop and I think it's gonna land right on my head.

When we arrive, I can't find Erin anywhere. She is not in her room, the pen, the cafeteria, and not in any of the bathrooms – I checked them all. I'm almost doing a PA announcement when I see her walking out of the library.

"Brushing up on your literature?" I say teasing. Erin should have smiled, but she doesn't. I lift her chin and tilt her head, gazing deeply at her. "What happened this morning?" I ask.

"Nothing. I, um, over slept," she says. "Didn't want to whole pen to know."

There is something so peculiar in her tone – it is so unusually low, and so unlike her resolute tone. She's not telling me the truth again. I slide my hand along the side of her face, until her cheek, is rested in my palm.

She lowers her gaze.

"Are you sure?" I ask and she looks up at me with a fake smile plastered on her face. She knows I won't buy into it, so she grabs my hand and squeezes reassuringly.

"I'm just tired," she says and lowers her voice. She's withdrawn so far she might as well be standing on the opposite side of the hall. "Someone kept me up last night."

I leaned closer until our noses almost touch. "He probably had good reasons."

"He did," she counters, her smile more convincing this time, as if she's pushing the sadness form her face so that I will stop asking her what's wrong.

"You know you can tell me if something's wrong, if there's anything, you know, on your mind."

"Jay, I'm fine." She waves a hand at my concerned look. "Please, just…I'm fine."

I'm not convinced, but I table my concerns and decide not to press her. I know she's hiding something. It's like something deep within that beautiful head of hers is terrorizing her. My immediate instinct is to make everything better for her. Maybe, this is one of those instances that I just have to sit back and be there for her when she decides she wants my help.

"Have you eaten, yet?"

Shakes her head no.

I put my arm around her, hand over her shoulder, and hugged her to me, and put my lips to her forehead. "Let's go then."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I bet most of you can figure out what's going on with Erin. Your comments/ideas/words of encouragement are always welcomed. Cheers!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you for your reviews! I hope everyone had a good week. It was a busy one for me =)**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Erin's POV**

Hank is at the front of the bullpen talking in a real firm voice, but I'm not listening to what he's saying. I can only pick out odd words like: "... computer ... virus... system… shutdown..." I can't concentrate. My head is spinning. Everything is spinning. The room is closing in, and I can hear a ringing in my head. Panic. That's it. I'm panicking because…

I'm late.

It might not mean anything. I've been under a lot of stress lately. And stress messes up your body's clock, doesn't it?

 _But what if it isn't stress?_ I think to myself. This can't be happening, actually, it doesn't happen – not naturally, that is.

Except I'm late. Very late. Too damn late.

I press my hand to my belly and gulp for air. This is a nightmare. No, it's worse than a nightmare. Because you can wake up from nightmares.

When I was a kid, I remember Bunny and I hitched a ride to a new settlement that was a two-day walk from where we were. I passed out in the backseat, probably lulled by the motion into a dreamless slumber. Halfway there, the driver fell asleep and we veered off the road, colliding with a concrete streetlight. I woke up just as I was being propelled forward from the back seat.

Waking up from a weightless sleep so abruptly is as close as I can come to describe what I'm feeling.

"Erin?"

The sound of my name pulls me out of my trance. I look up, "Y-Yes?"

Hank looks at me searchingly. "Do you know where you're scavenging today?"

I feel Jay's eyes on me, but I can't bring myself to look at him. "No, no yet." I say. "I, um, heard there was a superstore still standing in Bristol."

"It's probably raided," Adam says.

"My CI said the building is cursed, so people have been avoiding it. I thought I might go take a look at it."

Hank thinks for a moment. "Okay. Take Halstead with you."

Any other time, having Jay come on a scavenging trip would've been great. But now I'm dreading it. He sees right through me, knows something is wrong. Part of me is glad that he's so attuned to me, but the other part is terrified about what he'll do with that knowledge and whether or not I can keep myself together.

All of a sudden, I feel sick. Trying hard to choke the bile rising in my throat, I stand and walk quickly out of the pen. My face is flushed, and I can see how red it is when I enter the bathroom and spill the contents of my stomach into the white basin. I wipe my face with a wet hand towel and look at myself in the mirror. Panic grips me.

This can't be happening.

I put my head in my hands, trying to control my breathing. I begin to pace around the bathroom, my is heart hammering in my chest. I look down at my flat stomach - _please, please, please don't be… I can't be…_

 _Pregnant._

The word tugs at a knot deep in my chest.

I slip back into the bullpen stunned. I'm panicking. My mind is leaping from thought to thought. I try to hang on to any one thought, but they swirl around so rapidly that it's like trying to hold on to smoke. I'm breathing too fast. I need to stop. I'm agonizing over something that is not yet true. Gradually, I calm myself down, my muscles loosen - hadn't noticed how taut they were, but now they ache like I've just run a marathon.

"Hey," Jay approaches me after everyone has left the pen. "Everything okay?"

"I'm fine." I keep my tone leveled. No trace of panic tinged words. I hope my expression isn't' giving away my tormented concerns. "Just tired."

"You've been tired a lot lately," he notes. "Are you sure you're up to go scavenging? I can ask Ruzek or Atwater to come."

"No, no, I'm fine," I try to reassure him.

He gives me a concerned look, but then smiles. I feel a little of my tension melt away.

"Okay, then." His hand reaches out and strokes my jaw line. "Want some coffee?"

"No!" I practically shout at him, and from the tightening on his lips, he isn't crazy about my reaction. I heard that coffee is not good for the baby, _if_ there is even a baby. "I, um, had a cup already," I lie. I feel my cheeks flush.

"Okay," he says.

It's almost like we are speaking to each other like acquaintances rather than a couple who has been entwined for the last three months.

"We'd better get ready if we want to leave before the sun gets too hot," I say.

Jay says nothing, but studies my face for a long, unsettling moment "You sure everything is okay?" He asks, his bright blue eyes are looking at me like I'm more important than anything else in the world. I feel tears prick my eyes.

"Yup, all good." Another lie.

He laces his fingers through my own and lifts our linked hands to his lips. He nibbles on the fleshy pad at the back of my thumb in a move so disarming I feel the words I've been holding in choke me. I snatch my hand away and clear my throat, pretending not to notice the confused, hurt look in his eye.

"I have to take care of a few things before we go. Meet you at the doc in 10 minutes?"

"Sure," he says. "I will stop by the kitchen and pick up a few protein bars."

I nod my head - can't get any words out, and scramble towards the door. I just can't look at him right now because I might break into a million pieces.

x

We start making our way to Bristol and the sun is a taunting fireball in the cloudless sky. Sweat is dripping down my face stinging my eyes. I wipe it away with the back of my hand. My lungs are starting to burn and my side aches. The day is only half done, but I'm tired, drained, and worn out— like I'm pulling a dead weight. I'm dragging my feet, lifting my heavy legs one at a time. My back hurts, my legs tremble - I feel miserable.

Jay is walking beside me. His aviators hide his eyes, but I can feel them burning a hole through me. Genuine concern is etched in the furrow of his brow.

"Do you want to take a break?" He asks. "There is a truck stop about a half mile up the hill. There's probably some shade we can stop and catch our breath."

I really want to stop, but I'm afraid if we do it will give Jay the opportunity he's been seeking to interrogate me further. "Nah, I'm good. We should keep moving if we want to get there before it's dark out."

"10 minutes won't put a dent on our ETA." He says, eyes pleading with me. "C'mon, 10 minutes?"

He is only trying to help and here I'm pushing him away. I give up on protesting and, instead, nod and let him lead the way. We keep along the road, a shallow uphill incline that has my heart racing. Jay attentively puts his hand on the small of my back and nudges me along. We reach the crest of the hill and see the truck stop Jay was talking about.

The building structure has partially collapsed from decades of neglect, and everything around it has been reduced to rubble. We find a shaded space and I plop down to the ground. The heatwave is still blooming over me, spreading like a clinging veil over my chest and face and neck and scalp. Jay is also covered in sweat, shirt sticking to his chest and back.

He takes his sunglasses and the damp bandana off of his face and puts them in his pocket. I watch him take his canteen, and instead to taking a sip, he pours water on the nape of my neck and down my back. It feels wonderful.

"That feels nice," I say with a weak smile. "Thank you."

"It's really hot today," he says and takes a large pull from his canteen.

"We should have left earlier," I tell him. I take my own canteen out and splash my face with water, while taking long pulls from it.

"Here," he takes a protein bar from his pack and hands it to me. "You should eat something. It will help with the leg cramping."

Jay is so good. He is smiling down at me, but there's something else in his eyes. The guy is truly concerned.

"Thanks. I'll take it to go." I begin to stand; the action makes me a bit dizzy.

Jay grabs hold of my arm to steady me. "Are you sure you don't want to stay here few more minutes?"

I shake my head, but feel suddenly nauseous at the action. "No, I'm good now."

With his hand back at the small of my back, he guides me away from the truck stop and back to the main road. We walk for another few hours before we begin to see the remnants of a small town. Almost every building is burned or reduced to rubble. Except for a big warehouse-type structure. The building is damaged and worn, but in mostly decent condition. It stands out among its surrounding for being the only structure still intact.

"I don't get it. It looks almost… normal. Like nothing happened. How come it hasn't been raided?" I ask.

"I don't know," Jay says, his alertness on high. "Stay here while I go check it out first. I'll be back in just a minute."

Jay pulls out his gun and goes to do a perimeter check while I take cautious steps towards a large glass window spanning the side of the building. I cup my hands to contain the glare and look inside. Everything seems trashed, shelves are knocked over and sagging cardboard boxes are all over the floor.

"Nothing," he says, sounding a bit out of breath. "Everything looks fine on the outside."

"Let's go inside then," I tell him.

He considers for a short moment, then nods.

Jay pries the doors open and we take careful steps before we both stop and take a look, while pointing our guns around. Every single cash register has been smashed off the counters and there is money scattered all over the floor. Tiles from the drop ceiling are smashed and hanging all around the store. So much for being preserved on the outside.

"Let's just get in and get out?" Jay says.

I nod. "I will go this way," I tell him.

He nods. "Keep your radio on."

We separate and I slowly move forward, starting to approach the first aisle. Canned goods are everywhere. Corn, peas, carrots, soups of all kinds…. All scattered, but untouched. I pick one up from the floor and check the expiration date and it's still good. Something doesn't add up. Why has no one taken any of it?

Aisle after aisle, everything is strewn all over the floor, but intact. We can feed the entire Refuge for years with all the goods in here.

The last section, tucked at the end of the store, happens to be the children's section.

I walk through the racks and the old baby clothes still feel soft to the touch — yellow sweaters, no bigger than my outstretched hand, with happy ducks sown on; blankets, pink and blue; tiny white dresses with ruffles; soft small socks like pockets for a thumb, their cuff rimmed in lace.

Delicate. They are so delicate, the booties, the little colored tights, so small and soft and bright in the dim of this place, so light and silky.

I stand there, for what seems like the longest time, feeling my heart wind a notch tighter in my heart, and their softness collapsing against my fingers.

I can't leave, can't move, can't imagine how someone that fits into these tiny outfits be bad for me, for _us_. A new life isn't a bad thing. If there is a baby, it was definitely made out of the purest kind of love. I best kind I have ever experienced.

My thoughts are jumbled, as is my emotions. For a split second, joy wars with panic inside of me as the possibility that I'm pregnant really hits me. Deep inside I think I already know.

But there is only one way to be sure.

I walk down a few aisles, I pass the gum, potato chips, canned peanuts, and other snacks until I make it to the end near where there are empty cardboard boxes everywhere. I slowly turn down the next aisle, where I pass the detergent and paper plates and napkins. When I walk closer to the end, I see the pregnancy tests in the corner next to the feminine hygiene products. I grab a pink box and stuff it in my pack.

I'm walking back towards the front of the store when I see Jay walking towards me. He is wearing a black baseball cap and eating from a bag of chips.

As soon as his gaze meets mine he asks, "You okay?"

I bet he sees the anguish all over my face. "I-I'm good. I'm, uh, just confused about how this is still all here?" I say, veering the conversation away from me.

"Oh, I figured it out," he says and offers me some chips. I shake my head no. "This way," he motions with his head and I follow.

At the back of the store where there are racks full of adult clothing and shoes, there is also dried up blood in pools all over. Jay points to the far wall where the word _infected_ is written in blood. He pops a chip in his mouth and says, "Someone who was probably infected bled out all over this side of the store. People probably got scared and that's why everything is still here."

"Do you think the blood is still infectious?"

Jay shrugs. "I don't know. And we can't tell because I'm a donor and you're immune."

"Do you think everything else is okay?"

Jay thinks. "Everything that is sealed should be good." His face breaks into a huge smile. "We should throw some sort of party at the Refuge."

"Yeah." I smile back, even though my face feels frozen.

"We need to call patrol to come with a truck." Jay's smile is still lighting up this entire place. Like a sunbeam through a cloudy sky. "They'll need hazmat suits just in case. Babe, we hit the jackpot!"

Jay's hand immediately grips mine and he pulls me into a hug. I try to smile to cover up the turmoil inside me, but all I can manage is a half grin that makes my tired eyes twitch.

Soon enough there's a truck and the store is littered with blue uniforms in hazmat suits. I thank whatever high power that I don't have to walk back to the refuge. I don't think I would've made it back. While Jay busies himself, helping load all the goods in the truck, I slip away and leave with the first patrol car back to the Refuge.

x

As soon as I get back, I promptly hide in my room. I know Jay will be busy for the next few hours, which should give me enough time to declutter my thoughts. When I finally summon enough courage to go to the bathroom to take the pregnancy test, I hear a light knock on my room door.

"Er, it's me."

I quickly return the pregnancy test to my backpack.

"Come in," I say.

The door slowly opens and Jay walks in. He pulls a container from behind him. "I brought food since you skipped dinner," he says, his tone concerned, though not accusatory.

"Thanks," I say, opening the container, a large pile of lasagna inside still steaming. It smells delicious, but my stomach turns.

"I asked the cooks put extra cheese for you." He looks at me with a slight grin on his face, his blue eyes crinkling at the edges. I smile weakly back.

He sits down on the bed so that we are almost facing one another, but not quite. "Babe, please talk to me." He searches my face, then his expression softens ever so slightly.

"I'm okay…" I shrug, dropping my gaze from his and turning my head away to look towards the window feigning a sudden interest in the night sky.

"Erin?"

I can't keep lying to him. He knows I'm not okay. I meet his gaze and give him a genuine smile. "I just, I have some stuff going on, but it's nothing," I reply, downplaying a little.

He looks skeptical. "What stuff?" He asks, his gaze sharpening over my face.

"Nothing you should worry about," I tell him.

He frowns and his mouth thins. "Let me be the judge of what I should worry about." He inches closer, taking my hand and kissing each knuckle. "I know there's something going on. I've been trying to give you space, but it doesn't seem to be getting better." He releases a frustrated sigh. "You don't have to carry whatever this is by yourself. Let me help you."

I shake my head. I don't want to talk about it anymore. I don't want to argue. I just want to forget about it.

A searing surge of longing jolts my limbs and a warm tingle begins in my abdomen and grows, expanding outwards as my thought turn to things best left in the dark. I get up from my perch on the bed, shut the lights off, and turn the lock on the door. The darkness is so complete that I can't see his expression, read his concern or the pity in his eyes. Though, I know it's there.

I push on his shoulder until he sinks onto his back. I rise in front of him and extend my leg over his waist, my movements slow and cautious. His skin feels blistering hot as I settle down on him. His abdominal muscles are taut, his arms rigid on either side of my legs as I run my hand over his chest to hold his shoulders. I wait for him to push me away, to tell me this won't solve anything, but he doesn't.

Jay doesn't move. Doesn't speak. I can practically hear the battle raging in his mind to start to pull away, knowing that I'm just doing this to distract him - me.

"This is what I need," I lean down and whisper into his ear.

"Is it?" He asks cautiously.

"Yes," I tell him. Tears well up in my eyes.

I part my lips, taking a fist of his shirt in my hands, and gently pull him closer.

I kiss him, then.

I kiss him like it's the first time I've ever kissed him.

I kiss him like it's the last time I'll ever kiss him.

Our bodies entangle and my skin aches with sensitivity. Every touch is too much and not enough.

When he enters me, I cry out at the sudden, intense feeling. Burning heat radiates out from the place where he pierces me. The sensations so much stronger than anything I've experience before. When he begins moving inside of me, a little whimper of pleasure escapes my mouth. My insides begin to coil round and round, tighter and tighter, in a paradox of pleasure combined with the edge of pain.

I reach my climax and it overwhelms me. When I come back to my senses, I find tears leaking from the corners of my eyes. Jay is still inside me, his body still atop mine, his breath still whispering in my ear. I squeeze my eyes shut, letting the tears run down my cheek. I tighten my arms around him, holding him as hard as I can.

Neither of us speak. In this moment, I forget everything.

x

I can't sleep, I lay awake while Jay is sound asleep, my mind has started to unbalance itself again. The heat of Jay's back presses against mine, but for the first time it feels suffocating instead of inviting. But every time I inch away from him I feel the emptiness and sink back.

An involuntary sob escapes my lips and Jay stirs, but doesn't wake. Gradually, I find the strength to extricate myself from the bed and go to the bathroom, pregnancy test in hand.

The bathroom is empty. I lock myself inside a stall, pull down my pajama bottoms with my underwear, and sit on the toilet. I rip the package open and take the cap off the little pee stick, holding it underneath me. When I'm done, I cap the stick and set it on the sink. I wipe, flush and go wash my hands. The test said to wait two minutes.

Looking down at the pregnancy test accidentally, I see it clear as day. Two lines instead of one. I stare at those two blue lines. Those two blue lines stare back at me. They're not more than five millimeters long. Two tiny blue lines. Parallel. Twin horizons.

I grab the box and the second little pee stick. Maybe the first one was faulty. I pee, set it on the counter and wait again.

Two blue lines.

My breath catches in my throat and my heart beats into my ears.

I check the words on the box again and make sure I've read the directions carefully. Two lines means positive, and positive means pregnant. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I fling the sticks across the floor and shove a fist against my mouth to stifle a sob of elation and despair and fear.

I look down at my stomach and every hair on my body stands up, a cold chill runs through me. It's just too much for me to process.

I look in the mirror, staring at my tear streaked face. Then my eyes trail downward again. I slide my hand off my mouth and run it down the flat plains of my stomach, placing my hand right over my belly button. Can the baby feel it?

I stand there, stunned, staring at myself in the mirror until someone walks in.

I wash my hands again, pick up the tests from the floor, fully expecting to throw them in the waste basket, but my hands stop. I freeze, staring at those blue lines in my hand. Instead of putting them in the trash, I find myself tucking them in my pocket. I suck in a deep breath before I finally open the door.

I go back to the room and lie on the bed still as a plank. Jay rolls over and presses up against me. His hand winds around my waist as he pulls me closer to him. I feel his hand curls around my hip and his gentle breath against my neck. I swallow the bitter taste in my throat and force myself not to cry.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. I'll try to update Asap. Let me know your thoughts. I will try my very best to answer any questions you may have. cheers!**


	16. Chapter 16

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 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Jay's POV**

We are celebrating.

The Refuge is having a party to commemorate the fact that Erin and I hit the jackpot last week with the abandoned superstore. Everyone is dressing up and the cooks have been busy all day preparing a feast. Atwater dug up an old stereo system and a couple of guys from patrol are setting up a dance floor. There are balloons, streamers, and confetti embellishing the old gymnasium. The atmosphere is vibrant. Everyone is in good spirits, except for one person:

Erin.

It is obvious that something is majorly wrong, and she's not even denying anymore. I've tried everything to help her. Everything! I don't know what else to do. It has become, like the old saying goes, the elephant in the room. We both know the problem is there, it's so big, but we try to pretend it's not really there at all.

I'm leaving my room to go help set up for the party when I see her coming down the hallway, shower bag in hand, her hair still wet. Her brow is slightly furrowed and her eyes look distant. Mainly, she looks worried, sad even.

"Hey," I want to ask what's wrong but I know she won't tell me, so I try my best to ignore it. "Ready for tonight?"

"Tonight?" She asks a bit startled, not bothering to look my way as her eyes continue to stare off into a faraway distance filled with whatever terror is afflicting her. "What's going on tonight?"

"The party, Erin," I remind her. "Did you forget?"

"Oh," she answers mumbling. "I guess it's today, huh?"

I place my hands on either sides of her shoulders, and look into her face searchingly. She looks at me, her expression sad but otherwise unreadable. Then like a reflex I stupidly ask, "You okay?" I feel a surge of regret as the words come out of my mouth, but it's too late.

"Why do you keep asking me that." Her voice a little edgy and tense.

"Because you look like you might not be."

She releases a frustrated sigh. "I thought we had already stablished that I'm not."

Her tone stings, but I remind myself that this isn't the _real_ Erin. "Fine," I grumble, overreacting. "Sorry, I asked."

"Don't be like that…"

"Be like what?" My voice rising a notch in frustration. "I only asked if you were okay, that's all."

She looks around to see if anyone's watching us, but the hallway is empty. "Look, I'm going to be okay. It's just going to take some time."

Her eyes meet mine. There's a shimmer of wetness there.

"I just wish you could tell me what's going on," I say and Erin heaves a frustrated sigh, making no attempt to hide her annoyance. I close my eyes tight, fighting for composure. I reopened my eye and tip her chin up. "We're partners. Talk to me. I'm here. I just want to be-"

"-Look," Erin glances around and pulls me inside her room. "You can't help-"

"-You don't know that," I counter.

She shakes her head like she is all-knowing. "I know it's hard for you to understand, but you can't help me on this. So, just drop it."

"Erin…" I step closer, taking her hands in mine. "I love you." The words jump straight from my thoughts and out of my mouth, sort of bypassing my brain. I don't care. It's true. "I'm in love with you," I say. "So, I worry about you. I _am_ worried about you, and I can't just drop it."

All she can do is stand there stunned, like she just got punched. But then her perfect lips pull up on one side, before the other side catches up in a smile. But it quickly fades, replaced by wariness.

I kiss each of her knuckles. "I've loved you since the first time you pointed your gun at me," I say, hoping I'll get a real smile out of her. But instead, sorrow flicker across her eyes. She lets go of my hands and steps back as tears begin to run down her cheek.

I take a step towards her, but she holds up her hand to stop me. "I can't do this right now." Her voice sounds raw and cracked, as if every words hurt, as if she had doubled over to get them out. "Can you just go?"

It would have hurt less if she had shot me. I take her hand and placed over my heart. She breaks down further. I extend my other hand and cup her cheek. "Is that what you really want?"

She nods and her lips quiver softly, fighting so hard to keep from bursting further into tears again.

My heart feels tight in my chest in a way it hasn't before. I think my emotions are just a little too close to the surface. I need to lock it all down. I don't want to say or do anything I might regret. I nod and leave, pretending not to hear her sobs echoing from inside her room when I close the door behind me.

x

I'm barely through the gym doors and my body is already thumping to the same beat as the music coming from the sound system. I don't even know why I came. I know I won't be able to enjoy the festivities. Not without Erin. After our little spat earlier today, I doubt she'll be showing up here. Nevertheless, I find an empty table and park myself there, hoping the music and lights will serve as a distraction.

"Hey, man," Ruzek says approaching. Burgess trailing behind him. "Where's Erin?"

"I don't know." I shrug. "Don't think she's coming."

"Is she okay?" Burgess pipes in. "Why wouldn't she come?"

"I don't know," I answer again. Adam catches on that I'm not in the mood to elaborate on Erin's whereabouts, so he hands me a cup full of something strong smelling and then sits two shots on the table. I quickly throwback both, letting it course down my throat and burn up my chest. I savor the pain.

"Slow down or I'll have to carry you back to your room," Adam says and clinks his glass against my empty one. He takes a big swallow and puts the glass down, grimacing at the jolt of the alcohol. "Kim and I are going to get some food. Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm good," I tell him.

"Okay, man," Ruzek says. He leans forward and reaches out a hand as if to pat me on the back, but he seems to think better of it. He leaves the bottle of alcohol behind and says, "Go easy. Don't drink it all," and disappears with Kim.

An hour passes and I have a few more shots. I don't really feel like drinking, but I do have a nice buzz going, and I have to admit it helps calm the thoughts in my head. However, no amount of alcohol can take my mind off Erin. Every time a song plays, or I come across a familiar scent, I'm bombarded with recollections that I much rather table for tonight.

I figure I should probably turn in early, but when I get up to leave, my eyes do a double take when I catch sight of Erin walking in through the double doors of the gymnasium. She's wearing this beautiful maroon dress that is hugging her curves in all the right places. Her hair is down, her cheeks are rosy, and her eyes are sparkling. She is glowing all over. And as if by some cosmic provision, the upbeat music playing changes to a slow ballad.

I greet her and my face nearly splits in half from my giant smile. "May I have this dance?"

She nods and gives me her hand. I lead her onto the dance floor.

We stand there for a few moments. Not moving. Just standing. Our bodies so close together. Thigh to thigh. Chest to chest. I fix on her beautiful hazel irises, deep pools of forever, with mine. I refuse to blink wanting to hold this look, pressing myself against her because I can't get her close enough. She knows and smiles – dimples on display and everything.

I take her hands and lead it to my shoulder and settle my hands on the curve of her waist. We start moving, and it seems we know what the other one is doing with every step. Suddenly, it is as though we are the only couple dancing. I rest my cheek against her hair. Her hand travels down to my chest, pressing against my heart. Electricity passes between us. She feels so right in my arms.

I lower my face to hers. We're almost nose to nose. "You have no idea how happy I'm that you're here."

"Me too," she replies.

I drop my lips and kiss her slowly. The familiar sweet taste floods my sense. I missed her.

When our lips part, she looks up, slightly embarrassed, her cheeks flushed beautifully. "If people didn't already know we are together, they know now."

I smile, too happy to care.

"You smell like heaven," I say. The alcohol had loosened me up and apparently loosened my tongue too. "I'm so sorry that was really cheesy. I was trying to say something romantic and that came out."

"It was romantic, albeit very cheesy." She laughs a little.

"I do miss that laugh, though . . ."

She smiles.

"And that smile . . .I've missed you so much." After a beat, I lean towards her with my lips buried in her soft hair near her ear, I murmur, "I meant what I said earlier."

"I know," she replies softly, squeezing our joined hands.

"That will never change," I assure her. "Ever." I lift her chin so her eyes are trained on mine. "I love you."

Although Erin doesn't say it back, she looks at me with love in her green eyes, reflecting back to me the love I know she sees in mine.

We dance close together until the song fades. I give her a gentle kiss on the cheek and pull her away from the crowd to a room in the back of the gym, so it's just us. I pull her for a kiss and it's not all fire and lust and urgency. There's only strength and thrust and total surrender. I could kiss her like this forever.

When we part, the connection lingers, binding us to each other. I feel like I can finally breath again.

Because I can't get enough of her, I push her hair away from her ear, and lower my lips to kiss her lobe, then pepper kisses down the side of her neck. Erin tilts her head, giving me room to explore. I taste her skin, closing my teeth over her pulse before soothing the bite with a wet, soft kiss.

A soft moan escapes her lips and when I look into her eyes I see that they are glistening.

"Erin-"

I don't finish my thought because she pulls me back down to her lips. Urgent. Pleading. The kiss is deep, desperate, exquisite, sending little shivers of electricity racing through my veins and into my groin. I run my hands through her hair, which coils and twists around my fingers, while her hands press into my back, drawing me closer.

Perhaps the alcohol is to blame, but I lose all sense of self. Desperate emotions fill me, bringing about an intense longing for her. It burns deep within me and slowly begins to consume me. I find myself suddenly picking her up and setting her on a table in the corner. Her hands are busy undoing my belt as I push her dress up her thighs. But then everything comes to a crashing halt when I see a single tear rolling down her cheek.

I grip her hand to stop her action and her eyes come up to meet mine.

"Er, what's going on?" I pad the tear away with my thumb. "Why are you crying?"

"Just…" Her words trail off. She pulls her hands out of my grip. "Just…don't, okay?" She asks weakly and goes for my belt again.

I stop her and gaze into her eyes as she blinks back _more_ tears. The alcohol may have loosened my wound up nerves, but I can't overlook this. As much as I want her right now, it feels wrong. And it has _never_ felt this wrong. It sends chills down my spine because I can't shake the creeping feeling that this is some sort of a goodbye. When it's not. I can't be.

"Erin, you're scaring me. This is insane! Talk to me – please? Just talk to me."

She looks up at me and her shoulders crumple inward. She takes a couple of shaky breaths and says, "Please, Jay," Her voice soft. "It's just..."

"What is it?" I insist.

"I, uh…I'm…I'm…"

Her pause is deafening.

"You're what, Erin?" I can see in her face that she is having an inward battle with herself. She's teetering on the edge. I can see her resolve crumbling. "You can tell me," I coax her.

Erin's face squishes up, like she's in the worst pain ever and when she opens her mouth, nothing comes out. Then in a flash her expression hardens. She is trying to be apathetic, but her eyes are edged with suffering and her mouth is thin with despair.

"It's, uh, nothing," she murmurs and her voice cracks at the end.

"Stop it!" I tell her harshly and she startles. I hate myself for it. "I don't want to hear that." I study her face, looking for any cracks in her armor, but there are none. "We can't keep doing this back and forth."

"Then don't." She rasps her words, squirming uncomfortably. "I have it under control."

"Oh, do you?" I gesture to her tear-stricken face. "Could have fooled me."

"Look," she slides from atop the table and fixes her dress. "I have to do this alone. But it's going to be okay. It will be over soon. You have to trust me," she states, though I don't think she believes it. I certainly don't.

"Erin-"

"I- I think I'm going to turn in," she says with some resolve, wiping away the tears that spilled from her eyes.

"You just got here. You haven't even eaten yet," I say.

"I'm not hungry."

She wraps her arms around herself and then looks back at me with an expression I can't place. She's withdrawn so far she might as well be standing on the opposite side of the room.

"I will see you tomorrow," she says, offering a small smile. It's not genuine in the least. "I Just need…" she shakes her head, not finishing her thought.

"You just need to be alone," I say, finishing it for her and she whips her eyes to mine. There's nothing but sadness there. Her body is stiff and she slowly looks at the door.

My heart beats in a weird way, like it's skipping instead of beating. My skin heats, every inch of it feeling like it's on fire – and not in a good way. "Go then," I say begrudgingly.

I dare to look at her face and it's like I smacked her. She pushes past me and leaves. I want to run after her. But I don't. I just stand here, perfectly still, and let her walk away instead.

x

It's late and the festivities are long over. I'm in my room lying awake in bed unable to sleep. After tonight, I know I hit a brick wall with Erin. I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how to make things better. I don't know how to protect her. I go against my gut feeling and make the decision to talk to Hank. He raised her. Maybe he can help shed some light on what's going on with her, or at least point me in the right direction. I'm desperate.

I march into the pen and as expected the light in Hank's office is on. I knock and hear his gravelly voice say, "Come in."

I walk in and plop down unceremoniously on the chair opposite his desk. He looks up from a manual of some kind. "Can't sleep?"

I nod.

"You should try counting sheep," he suggests.

I shake my head. "I tried counting sheep, but every time they jump the fence someone blows them away with a semi-automatic rifle. Not a great recipe for sleep."

He grunts at my attempted joke, but seems to be studying my face. "What brings you here, Jay?"

With my heart sinking lower in my chest, I release a heavy sigh. "Something is wrong with Erin."

Hank nods his head and adjusts himself in the chair with a 'humph.'

"Something's happened. She's different somehow." I explain. "She's distant, holding back. I can only get an occasional glimpse of the Erin I lov-" I catch myself. "…of the Erin I know." I correct it. "It's like I'm looking at her through a fog."

"Have you asked her what's wrong?"

I don't know why but this question makes me mad. I grit my teeth and nod. "She's not saying anything at all. And when I ask her, we end up arguing…and I don't' want that. It's almost counterproductive because she withdraws further away."

Hanks looks deep in thought. "Well, nothing will change until you talk it through with her. Argument or no argument."

I sigh, defeated, and also, disappointed. Not the answer I wanted, though I don't know what I expected to gain from this conversation. I stare out of the windows in his office. The moon is low in the sky, and I can see the night breeze is stirring up the sand on the ground.

"Erin's a tough nut to crack-" I begin.

"-One of the toughest," Hank agrees. "She has to be. Look at what's she's been through. Growing up with no father, an unstable drifter for a mother, and having to survive with all sorts of dangers and no one to lean on." Hank speaks in a hushed tone, his eyes serious, eyebrows knitted together. "Pulling back is the only defense mechanism she knows."

"I fear if I don't do something soon, she'll be out of my reach." I pause. "I don't want to lose her."

"Has she been drinking? Using drugs?"

"No!" My answer cracks like a whiplash. "I would've have noticed."

"Erin's very good at hiding," Hank says.

 _Not that good,_ I tell myself. However, when I stop to think about it, the symptoms line up: fatigue, low appetite, isolation... Is Erin using?

"It wouldn't be the first time she relapses," Hank says as if reading my thoughts.

I sit back in my chair, defeated. "Why?" I ask rhetorically. "Why would she relapse?"

Hank shakes his head disappointed. "I will strip her from all her responsibilities and I will get to the bottom-"

"Wait," I say. "Don't do any of that. We don't know for sure," I tell him, but maybe I just want to convince myself that Erin is not capable of doing that- not while everything has been so good between us. "Let _me_ get to the bottom of this. Pretend this conversation never happened."

Hank looks me up and down. He considers my proposal for a moment. "You have 48 hours. Then, I step in."

I nod.

I leave his office feeling defeated. There's a storm coming, a bad storm. Only it isn't a storm. I can feel it.

x

I don't know how, but I managed to get some shut eye despite my head swirling with a tornado of thoughts. I kept thinking about what Hank said. Deep down I know Erin's not using. However, if she were, the only place she would stash anything is in her room because besides and me, no one else has access to it.

I wait until the morning rush settles outside in the hallway before I go into Erin's room. I knock once, twice, with no answer. I use my key and quietly slip inside. Everything is in a reasonably organized mess. I rummage the room, looking through every nook and cranny, searching for any vestige of drugs, pills, etc... Each time I come up dry. And each time my heart feels a little lighter.

While checking the pockets of her dirty clothes, two long white sticks side out from a pair of jeans and onto the floor. I crouch down to pick it up, turning them in my hand to inspect. On the side the word _pregnant_ is accompanied by two lines, and bellow the words _not pregnant_ are accompaniedby one line. The oval screen in the middle shows two blue lines. On both sticks.

 _Pregnant._

My ears ring. The whole room heats up, and I can't catch my breath. Erin. Pregnant. A kid. _My kid._ I shake my head, still trying to digest it. The little air that is left in my lungs leaves in one long rush, and my knees give out. I flop down to the floor. I feel hot tears stinging my eyes as I sit for a moment, letting this sink in.

 _Erin is pregnant._

Everything makes sense now.

I don't' even have to ask why she didn't tell me, what with me having a total meltdown when the subject of kids came up. Then Erin's words pop in my head like an electric shock: _I have to do this alone... It will be over soon._ I get a prickly feeling, like someone is sticking me with a thorn. A chill runs up my spine despite the room being 100 degrees.

I need to find her before she does anything dangerous.

I search everywhere in the Refuge and I don't find her. Confirming my fear, her pack is missing from her locker. Panic overtakes me as I realize I might be too late.

I run up the stairs, into the pen, and hotfoot to Hank's office. I pull the door open so fast that the doorknob comes off in my hand.

"Jay, what the-"

"-If Erin was in trouble, where would she go for help?" I'm breathless, like I just ran a marathon.

"Jay, sit down. What are you talk-"

"-If she needed something illegal, where would she go?" I insist. My composure wearing thin.

"What...? What is going on Jay? Where is Erin?"

"Hank," I bang my hand on the table. "Just tell me, please?"

Hank looks me up and down. He turns around and pulls a map from his shelf and lays it down on the table. With a thick marker he makes a circle around a place called _Cicero_.

"Her mom, Bunny, is there. Anything illegal? Bunny will know."

I take the map. "Thank you."

"Have the guys get the cars ready. We leave in-"

"-48 hours," I remind him. "You gave me 48 hours. Please, let me do this."

Hank looks surprised and hesitatant for a moment, thinking over his promise. But then he begrudgingly nods his head, and I'm out.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Your comments/question/ideas are always welcomed! Cheers!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you for all your kind words. Creating this world for Linstead has been really fun and I'm glad I get to take you guys with me!**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing. nada.**

* * *

 **Erin's POV**

I'm standing outside a big house. The door has a large bay window and I can see a brilliant white light shining through it. Suddenly, I hear a high pitch cry coming from inside. I go in to check it out, and as I step inside, I feel like I'm falling. Then, I see crystal blue for an instant before I splash through a surface. I puff my cheeks full of air when I realize I've fallen in a lake.

The crying peaks, and I see a solid dark bundle lying at the edge of the water. Four tiny flesh-covered limbs rises out of the dark, kicking and thrashing. A baby, I realize. A very small, very young baby. I try to swim towards it but I can't.

I am drowning.

I fight to stay afloat, but something heavy is pulling me down. The baby's cries of desperation cut deep into my heart as I thrash my arms, trying to keep my head above the water. But it's to no avail. I sink slowly. The air leaves my body and just before I pass out, I awake, gasping for air.

My heart pounds wildly in my throat, and I am drenched in the sweat of fear, a fear so real that I am frightened even after I realize it is just a nightmare, the same nightmare that has haunted me for the past few nights.

And every night, I can't save the baby. I can't save myself.

x

 _Cicero_. This small settlement - or the little that remains of it - was home for a big portion of my life. However, it is nothing like I remember. Entire areas have been reduced to rubble, and the few buildings still standing look on the verge of collapse. As I pass by a hotel we used to crash in, nothing but the lobby is still standing. It's neon sign protruding from the rubble.

I move in a trance toward the one place I know Bunny will be. I'm surprised the building is still here. I walk inside the dimly lit bar and approach the counter where four bikers sit drinking a clear and pungent moonshine-type liquor from a shared jar. All eyes turn to me, regarding me with interest as I pull up a stool at the counter.

A bartender I've never seem before approaches, looking me up and down. Suspicious. There's something about him I can't put my finger on.

"What'll it be?" He asks.

I place my canteen on the bar.

"Water."

"That's the good stuff. Gotta eat into my own ration to sell it – so I don't sell cheap."

"Can you put it on Bunny's tab?" I ask and his eyes widen. "Is she here?"

The bartender looks me up and down again with invigorated interest, unsure what to make of me, but intrigued.

"Who's asking?"

"Tell her Erin is here," I say.

He disappears for a moment and when he returns, Bunny is trailing right behind him.

"Erin!" Bunny says excitedly. "I can't believe –Oh, look at you. You look so beautiful. You look like me! Yes. You got your looks from me."

I lift my tight lips into a smile without letting my emotions show. Bunny hauls up the bar enclosure and motions for me to follow her. I walk behind the bar to the back of the establishment – a brothel of some sort. This is not a good place. A sad, dirty, half-empty place, the habitat of sad, dirty, half-empty people, who don't want to be seen: runaways, drifters, vagrants, and addicts.

There is no such a thing as privacy. I can see women pinned against walls, while men pound away at them. Not making love. This is mechanical, loveless sex. These women stare vacantly over their shoulders looking deeply uninterested, just waiting for it to be over.

Then, so unexpectedly it makes my eyes brim with tears because unlike them, I've experienced the best kind of love. Sweet and unselfish, and warm, and overwhelmingly good. The kind of love that created a life – a life currently growing inside of me, a little lump, not even a lump, no more than a speck, but it is here. But soon it won't be.

I try very hard not to think about it, I've manage to numb myself mentally and emotionally. It's the only way I will carry out what I came here to do, and it feels like a betrayal. I will survive this, I keep saying over and over. But like my recurring nightmare, I feel like I'm suffocating, drowning a slow proverbial death.

We reach what I assume is Bunny's room and she closes the door behind us. She begins pacing around the room nervously. She's fidgety and restless. I notice she is hiding her forearms. I wonder if she's coming down off of something.

"Bunny," I try to get her attention, but she has busied herself with picking up garments strewn all over the floor. "Mom," I try again. At that, she looks up.

"It's not always this messy," she says. "I rarely have visitors."

"I need your help," I say bluntly.

She stills and looks at me " _My_ help? Where's Hank? Can't he help you?" She says bitterly.

I inhale and exhale slowly. "I need _your_ help."

She's quiet, looking at me up and down. "What do you need?"

I take a deep breath and for the first time, I say the words out loud. "I'm pregnant."

Bunny's eyes, which are smallish and closed together, spread apart and widen. Her narrow nose closes up a little; her lips tighten. She seems to be reshuffling things inside her tripping mind, putting them inside boxes, or turning shapes inside out, or right side in. Her first words are, "I'm too young to be a grandmother."

"I need to have it taken care of." I grit the words out, because they leave a bitter taste on my tongue.

" _You_ left because you didn't want to end up like me. Now look at you. Exactly where I was a few years back," she says with a proud sneer. "The apple doesn't fall far from—"

"—I'm not," I interrupt her shaking my head. "I'm nothing like you _."_

Bunny laughs and roots around in a cloth bag, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. With chapped, trembling fingers she lights a cigarettes and takes two deep puffs before she fixes her gaze on me. She inspects me while in silence before blowing out a cloud of smoke between us, which for a moment conceals her heavily mascaraed eyes.

"Do you even know who's the father?"

The thought of Jay makes my heart sink. He is probably worried sick right now. "He doesn't know," I blurt out "And I want to keep it that way. So, can you help me or not?"

Bunny looks at me, chest puffed out, all pleased. "I will reach out to someone tomorrow."

"No! I need this today." My tone sounding exasperated… and I certainly feel this way. "It can't wait till' tomorrow."

"Well honey, things don't work like that," she tells me, looking at me through the cigarette smoke with an empty stare. "You might be able to snap your fingers and get what you want at that fancy place you live, but real life doesn't work like that. You can't just snap your fingers and—lo and behold! —people drop what they are doing to help you."

I take a deep, rattling breath. "Can you just please contact them?" Because favors, not even from my own mother, are free, I pull out a small bottle of alcohol from my pack and extend it to her, but before she takes it I add, "It has to be today."

Bunny takes the bottle and removes the cork, wafting up the strong smell of the alcohol.

"It's the good stuff," I assure her.

She nods. "I will see what I can do."

I nod, trying not to think about the baby listening, rolling around in my belly, unaware of its fate. Everything around me slows as my grief and yearning for this baby crawls deep inside me.

"Don't beat yourself up. It's best that you don't have this baby," she says in a flat tone weighted down by indifference. She puts out the cigarette in a blue flower vase that I think is an attempt to make the room seem more inviting. "You're doing the right thing. This is no time to have a baby. What hope is there for a child born into such a mess?"

I nod mechanically. I feel like crying but don't dare. My heart is torn; my soul is weeping.

x

Night falls. All is silent and the streets look deserted, save for a few people wandering listlessly about. We walk to the outskirts of the settlement to what looks like an abandoned house in despair – peeling paint, broken windows, damp-stained walls, but otherwise habitable.

"Are you sure this is the place?" I ask Bunny.

"What? Not up to your standards?" When I don't respond she pulls a metal flask from her bag. "Here, this should help calm your nerves." When I don't take it she scoffs. "You're not keeping it anyways."

"I just don't feel like drinking." In some twisted way, I want to be feel the pain. I don't deserve to be numb.

Bunny looks up at me and shrugs. "Suit yourself."

We walk through the front yard, surrounded by brownish overgrown weeds, and knock on a brittle looking door I could easily kick open.

A woman dressed in tattered rags answers the door. She motions for us to enter, "Right his way," then hovers behind us, close enough to step on our heels if we back up even one inch.

I notice the floors are dirty, the lighting is dim, and a stale smell of sweat and smoke fills the air. A few minutes go by before an older lady walks into the main room. She is short, thin and bent. Under the filth, buried deeply in her old and wrinkled face, she has dark brown eyes. Patches of her sparse white hair are missing, and also a few of her front teeth, though it doesn't prevent her from smiling.

"This is Erin," Bunny says, and lowers her voice. "The one I told you about."

"Ah," she says looking me up and down. She places a thin and dirty hand on my shoulder. Smiling oddly, she leans close and says, "I don't see these cases anymore. Can't remember the last time I had to do one of these."

"But you can still do it, right?" Bunny asks.

"Oh, yes…" she says. "…for the right price."

"What are you asking?" I chime in.

"What do you have, dear?"

I search my pack and pull out a Zippo lighter. The old woman takes it, sparks the flint, watches the flame flicker. "What else?"

I take off my scarf and show it to her. The old woman looks it over. Not particularly impressed. "This will get you half-way," she says.

I reach the bottom of my pack and produce two cans of soup. "This is all I got."

The old woman takes the cans and examines it. Satisfied, she gathers the items and turns towards the back of the house. "Follow me, dear."

I follow, fully aware that this will go down as the worst moment of my life. I'm shamefaced, guilt-ridden, and heartbroken.

The room is cold, dark, and dirty. Dust and cobwebs cover everything in this room. The air is heavy and is choked and stifled by the smell of blood and antiseptic.

"H-How are you going to do this?" I ask hesitantly. My hands involuntarily cradling my flat stomach.

"Well," she says rummaging through the myriad of bottles on a shelf. "I'm going to use a needle to insert a hemophilic agent into your uterus and then I'll mechanically suction your uterine contents through your cervix."

I blink and a stray tear rolls down my cheek. My heart is throbbing with pain, even though it's all my own doing.

She has me lie down half naked on the bed. I feel exposed and vulnerable. The harder I fight back the tears, the more they force themselves out and down my face. Self-loathing fills my chest until I think my rib cage might burst and my ribs will snap like twigs.

The truth is, I want this baby. Despite how crazy it sounds. There's this connection. I can't explain it, but I love this baby already, just as I love its father. I want this tiny person that is growing inside of me. I want it.

"Would you like something to relax?" The old woman asks.

"No. I, uh, I don't think I can, this is not…." I start to get up and search around for my under garments. "I'm sorry I wasted your time. Keep the gifts," I tell her. "I need to go."

I burst out of the room crying hysterically, though feeling lighter than I have felt in weeks, like a load has been lifted off of my shoulders. I feel weightless, as if I could levitate and float away like a balloon.

"Erin, what's going on?" Bunny jumps up startled.

Tears are streaming down my cheeks. "Nothing," I shake my head. "I just…I couldn't go through with it."

Bunny doesn't look surprised. "Did think you would."

We stand there in silence, looking at each other for a few seconds. Some sort of understanding flows between us through some invisible channel. She didn't do it either. For the first time, I see my mother through a fresh set of eyes.

"I need to go," I tell her. "M-My unit is probably out there looking for me."

She nods and we track back to the settlement. As soon as we get to the center of town, I see Jay. For a moment I think my eyes are betraying me. However, as unreal as it seems, it's him. His face is turned away, but I would know him anywhere, of course I would.

I feel a new set of tears sting the back of my eyes. When he turns and his gaze finally locks with mine, he sprints in my direction. He doesn't ask or say anything. He just wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest. And so I cry. I sob into his shirt until its drenched through with my tears.

"I love you," he whispers against my hair over and over again. Like a calming mantra. "I love you."

For the first time I deliberately let my face show how distraught I feel, and continue to sob almost hysterically on his shirt. I can barely form words between each sob.

"I, uh, I was. I c-came…It was…"

He pulls away slightly, pressing his lips to my cheeks, kissing away my tears, then proceeds to kiss across my cheek until our mouths connect. Slow and sweet, he pulls me closer as he deepens the kiss. No urgency. No demand. I can taste the saltiness of my tears on his lips. I sigh and give myself over to him, lifting an arm around his neck.

Jay takes way my fears, my sadness, my entire heart. He takes everything.

When we pull apart, I stare into his tear-filled eyes and with a voice full of emotion, I bare my soul, "I'm pregnant," I say, releasing a teary soaked cry. "I'm pregnant," I repeat because it feels so good to finally get them off my chest.

Jay's hands come up to frame my face. "I know."

"You know?"

"I found the tests." His voice is mixed with disbelief and wonder. "You haven't–" he shakes his head, unable to finish his sentence. "You're still-"

"Yes. I couldn't do it," I tell him, and I don't care to blink the tears back. "It's _ours_."

His face softens, his eyes full of love. He takes my face into his hands and bring our lips together again, slowly, languidly, his tongue touching mine so lightly that it sends electric sparks tingling throughout my entire body.

"I'm going to be a dad?" He asks against my lips, his blue eyes lighting up.

Numbly, I nod. "Is that okay? I know you said-"

"Forget what I said," he says. "We'll figure this out. _Together_."

To prove his point, he captures my lips in another soul-stealing kiss. He explored my mouth thoroughly, and when he is finished, he kisses the remaining salty tears off my cheeks. He moves to my eyes, down to my nose, and then back to my mouth.

"I'm scared," I whisper. "I haven't even held a baby."

Jay laughs softly. His warm breath caressing my cheek. "Me neither."

I groan and hide my face in my hands. "What are we going to do? What are people going to think of us now?"

Jay pries my hands away and peers into my face. "It doesn't matter." His hands travel down to the flat plains of the stomach in a gesture so sweet it could melt iron. "This is what matters."

I nod.

Bunny clears her throat and I realize she's been standing there all along.

After quick introductions, Bunny tentatively asks, "Should we take this inside?"

I feel Jay stiffen next to me. "We should probably head back," he says. His voice firmer now. His arms close even more tightly around me, pulling me in protectively against him. "Hank will send a search party if we're not back."

I look at Bunny and her brow furrows ever so slightly, barely noticeable to the untrained eye. "Right. _Hank_."

Despite our differences, despite all those years apart, I extricate myself from Jay and pull Bunny into a hug. It's an awkward, stiff hug, but a hug. She quickly pulls away, clearing her throat as she averts her eyes from us, instead looking in the direction of the bar. "Go before Hank shows up here kicking in doors."

I nod. But a question gnaws at me. I'm not sure how to ask, though, so I just blurt it out. "Why didn't you do you? Have an abortion?"

Bunny looks as if her breath has been knocked out of her. "I-I don't know. I thought about it…" Her voice trails off, then after a beat she says, "I was going to…" she admits.

I find tears in Bunny's eyes. In all the years that I've known my mother, I have never seen her cry. Never.

"…But every time I felt _you_ kick…" She continues and her hands travel down to her stomach in a presumably unconscious gesture. "I didn't feel alone."

I'm stunned. I fight back my own tears and swallow the heavy lump in my throat. There are no words that can adequately describe this moment. There is a new feeling deep inside me, something I have never felt before, which I don't understand. It's a strange mix of nostalgia and loss that burns deep.

Jay wraps his arms around me again, pressing his lips to my cheek. Although I feel drained from the whirlwind of emotions, my heart feels full.

"Thank you," I whisper to Bunny.

She nods, and we leave.

x

Back at the Refuge, Jay covers for me with Hank. I'm not ready to face him yet. I just want to sleep. I want to forget this day ever happened. I want to crawl into bed and not think about anything for the next twenty-four hours.

Just when the bed is staring to get really cold, Jay returns. He strokes my face and kisses me so gently, so tenderly that my heart swells. He plops down next to me and I ask, "Did Hank buy your story?"

"For now." He rubs the tip of his nose against mine. "But we will have to tell him soon."

I nod.

Jay smiles with relief but then it fades to concern. "You feeling okay?" He frames my jaw with one hand, his touch is so gentle that I close my eyes and lean into it.

"I'm exhausted. I just want to sleep."

Jay studies me for a moment, wearing a sheepish expression. "We don't have to talk about anything right now. But I need you to promise me something."

I nod. "Anything."

"No matter what happens, I need you to talk to me. No more secrets."

"No more secrets." I agree. A pang of guilt hits me in the gut. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean… I was scared and I thought—"

"—It's okay. We'll get into later. Then, we'll come up with a plan." His voice drops to a little more than a whisper. "Right now, all that matters is that you're here and you're safe." He leans and kisses me.

I don't deserve him.

"Stay?" I ask.

"Not going anywhere."

He reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head, then discards his pants. He climbs into bed in only his boxers and I follow suit, discarding my clothes until we are pressed against each other skin-to-skin. No barriers.

"I love you," I tell him and I mean it. I am in love with Jay, and it's the only thing in my life I am certain about right now.

I can feel his smile on my skin as he peppers kisses on the nape of my neck. I feel the stubble of a few days of not shaving against me skin. "I love you too," he says.

The words sink into my heart, filling my me with relief. Jay pulls me closer, burrowing his nose in my hair.

"Get some rest, I'll be right here."

I slip into the comfort of being this close to Jay. Something inside of me knows that even though everything is a complete mess, it's going to be okay.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Next Chapter we get to see Jay's inner thoughts and the fallout of everything. And I'm not sure we've seen the last of Bunny yet. *winks***


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you for your reviews and for your patience. I'm suffering from a case of writer's block and as the level of contentment with my witting plummets, the longer I take to publish =/ Hopefully it won't be here longer.**

 **SoFeelignTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Jay's POV.**

I wake before Erin and watch her sleep. I watch her chest rise and fall as she takes each breath. She looks so peaceful. None of her worries can be seen on her face. She deserves to look this peaceful all the time.

Late last night, even as everything calmed down inside me, guilt over what happened kept me awake. Despite feeling a bit cross that Erin didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth, I still felt to blame for her omission. The need to talk to her was ripping me up inside. I wanted to wake her up and get everything out in the open. But I knew I had to let her rest. She was drained; her eyes told me and her body as well.

"You should've told me…" I whispered to her, knowing she couldn't hear me.

She sighed in her sleep and burrowed closer. Eventually I let sleep take me.

Erin is the strongest person I know, but so soft. I don't care how tough people think she is. I just want to hold her forever. Protect her from anything and anyone that would hurt her. Even more so now.

The Sunlight, slipping in at the window, creeps across the room and up to the bed. Erin stirs and inhales deeply through her nose and stretches her arms above her head. She turns to see me hovering over her.

"Good morning."

She smiles and turns towards me. "Morning," she murmurs and cuddles closer – if even possible.

All I can do is stare at her and take her in. I'm amazed every time she looks at me like I'm everything to her because she's everything to me. She's _more_ than everything.

"What are you doing?" A half smile blooms on her lips.

"Being amazed." I can't help the grin on my face. Being near her is all I need.

"You're a dork."

"Possibly, but really, I just love you." I nuzzle into her. Lightly I trace my fingers down her arm. Her skin reacts with goosebumps. Cautiously I lean down and press a soft kiss on her shoulder. Her face fills with color.

"Hey, I was thinking we should probably have Dr. Rhodes check you out." At this, her eyes widen. "Just to make sure everything is okay," I explain.

"Yeah," she says weakly.

"Do you have any idea how far along you are? I read that the heart starts beating at about three weeks in."

Erin props herself up on one elbow. "You were reading?"

I nod. "Just wanted to make sure we are ahead of the game here."

"I think I'm nine to ten weeks in." Erin smiles, though its tinged with sadness. She gets very still, her face becomes serious, her voice slows down and almost stops, the pitch becomes low. "How are we supposed to do this? What if this baby is a donor? How much danger are we looking at here?"

The question I've been mulling over ever since I found out. _What if this child inherits my miserable fate?_ "I don't know. Let's not worry about it until we know for sure. Maybe that's something Dr. Rhodes can test for."

There's a beat of silence before she whispers, "You said you wouldn't wish this life on your worst enemy."

"What I said before doesn't matter. But if it is positive I will do everything in my power to keep both of you safe." I tell her with all conviction I can muster, trying to convince myself in the process. "I need you to trust me. Not just on this. But on everything else. I never want to feel like I did yesterday. Ever again."

Erin shudders, a small, sad look on her face. "I thought I was doing the right thing," she offers meekly.

"I get it," I tell her. "I do, really. But you made the decision without telling me, a life-altering decision at that."

Erin is silent for a moment. "It was just easier for me to do it by myself."

"Was it?" I push.

"I thought I could just make everything go away and it would all go back to how it was. I didn't want to disrupt what we had. I thought it was what you wanted, so I tried to make myself want it too."

"Erin, I appreciate you trying to spare me, but you don't ever have to make my decisions for me. And I promise not to make decisions for you."

There's a long silence before she says anything. "Do you want this baby?"

"I never thought I would," I tell her honestly. "But when I think about a little person with your dimpled smile, your tenacity, your eyes…. I just… Look, I'm scared out of my mind just thinking about it. But one thing I'm sure, is that I will be here." I take her hand. "You said you're not looking for easy, remember?"

She smiles. The dimples come out.

"We'll take this a day at a time. First, we need to go see Dr. Rhodes. Then, we need to tell Hank."

"Let me talk to Hank, okay?"

"Okay." I nod. "One day at a time."

"One day at a time."

x

"You're what?" Shock is written in Dr. Rhodes's eyes, even though he is trying to hide it.

"I'm pregnant," Erin repeats softly.

"A-Are you sure? It could be a mistake. Sometimes when women are under stress they can experience—"

"—I took two tests. What are the chances that my period is late and two pregnancy tests confirm I'm pregnant?"

Dr. Rhodes exhale loudly. "This is not my area of expertise. I'm going to ask Dr. Manning to come assist me here. She is more knowledgeable in this area."

"Okay," Erin says.

She looks uncertain at me. She seems to be looking for something in my eyes, some reassurance. I can't tell from her expression whether she is finding it or not. But she nods. I reach over and take her hand.

Dr. Rhodes leaves and comes back with who I assume is Dr. Manning. I've seen her around the Refuge before, but I didn't know she was a doctor.

"Hi," Dr. Manning says uncertain.

"Hey, Natalie," Erin waves.

"So is it true?"

"I think so," Erin says timidly.

Dr. Manning is timidly shocked at this revelation. She looks a bit frazzled, blinking rapidly, while pacing the small infirmary room.

"W-When was your last missed period?"

Erin stares into space as if doing a complicated math problem in her head. "Two months ago," she replies hesitantly.

"Okay," Dr. Manning says thinking. "10 weeks? Maybe…" Dr. Manning murmurs under her breath, thinking to herself. "The fetus should be big enough to be seen on an ultrasound."

"Dr. Manning," I speak up, pulling her from her reverie.

"Yes." She looks in my direction.

"Is there a way to know if the baby will be like me?"

"A donor." Dr. Rhodes chimes in, mostly to clarify to Natalie.

"We can do a blood test," Dr. Manning responds. "Actually, we need to do a blood test anyways to make sure everything is okay with Erin."

I smile at Erin and she gives my hand a squeeze.

Dr. manning turns and leaves the room, coming back with a portable ultrasound machine. "This won't give us the top of the line picture, but it is a good machine, so we'll be able to see just fine. I'm just going to have you lie back on here. Jay, you can sit next to her on the other side if you wish."

Erin nods and we do as we were told. I sit next to her, holding her hand, squeezing it gently.

"Okay, Erin, I'm just going to need you to lift up your shirt and if you could, unbutton the top button of your jeans."

Dr. manning takes a thin paper towel and slides it into the waistband of Erin's pants. "This is to make sure we don't get anything on your pants." She offers a kind smile before taking a plastic squirt bottle and squirting Erin's belly with a cold gel. I see Erin's stomach muscles tense as the chilly goop raises goosebumps on her skin.

Dr. Manning moves the wand around, rolling it back and forth. She taps a few buttons on the computer and then a moment later I hear a sound like a low drumbeat echoing through the room.

"Haven't heard that sound in a really long time," Dr. Manning says smiling from ear to ear. "That's your baby's heartbeat."

It is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard in my entire life. For a few moments the four of us just listen to the fuzzy beat in awe.

"Pretty amazing, huh?" Dr. Manning breaks the silence.

I let out a breath of air I didn't realize I was holding tightly in my lungs. I look at Erin and there's tears in her eyes. Also, happiness. This is incredible. I'm at a loss for words.

Dr. manning continues to move the wand and her eyes squint as she stops moving, holding it precisely in place while peering at the computer screen.

"What is it?" Erin asks, her voice dry and panicky. She squeezes my hand. "Everything okay?"

"No, no. There's nothing to worry about. It's just…." She turns the screen towards us with her free hand. The screen pulses and skips with life. "See there, that's the baby. Your baby."

My face breaks into a huge grin. This is crazy. I can clearly see the perfect outline of the baby's head and little body. In theory I knew Erin was pregnant, but actually seeing it on the screen makes it so much more real. Half Erin. Half me. all of our love wrapped up in one tiny little package.

"Oh," Erin breathes. She is watching the scree, her gaze focused. "That's amazing. That's a baby…"

"I think you're further along than you thought. I'm measuring you at about Twelve weeks." Dr. Manning moves the wand again. "But baby looks good."

I can't hold back the tears after that, and I don't even try. They stream down my face in a steady flow of relief and all-consuming gratitude.

We've created a life.

I cup Erin's cheeks, smashing her mouth against mine. I pour all my love into this kiss and take what she offers in return. She breaks the kiss, resting her forehead on mine.

"That's our baby," Erin whispers in amazement, and it so completely reflects how I feel. Tears slip from the corners of her eyes and down her jaw. "Right there, on the screen, that our baby," Erin repeats as if she can't believe it herself.

I glance around the room at Dr. Manning and Dr. Rhodes and their faces mirror our joy. They are happy. So very happy too. But they are quiet, letting us have this moment.

"Congratulations guys," Dr. Rhodes finally says. He pats my shoulder. "I'm really happy for you guys. This is truly a miracle."

"Thanks," Erin says and I pull her for another kiss.

"Can you keep this on the down low. We are not ready to tell anyone, especially if baby is a donor," Erin says.

"No worries. I will test your blood sample myself," Dr. Manning says.

"Thank you," I breath out. I look at Erin's glistening eyes and say, "This is happening."

She nods. "It truly is."

A mixture of protectiveness and responsibility overtakes me. The powerful emotions come together and at that moment I realize I'm going to be a dad.

Dr. Manning puts away the wand and prints out a picture. Erin stares at it, her eyes glistening with a combinations of happy and anxious tears. I don't have to ask if there is anything wrong. I know. I feel the same way. This is big. Too big.

"Even though everything looks good, I want to monitor you closely since this is quite the usual occurrence. Let's schedule weekly appointments."

Erin nods.

"But if anything changes. If you feel any pain, any bleeding I want you to come find me right away." Dr. Manning reaches out and squeezes Erin's leg.

"Okay," Erin says.

We walk out of the infirmary a bit dazed. I find Erin's hand and she gives me a gentle squeeze. Turning, I look over at her. She's nothing short of perfect, what with her flushed cheeks and her bright green eyes smiling at me. I just want to enjoy this moment before reality sinks in.

x

"Jay," Hank says the minute I step inside the pen. "My office." His tone is dry, indifferent, his face empty of expression.

Hank closes the door behind me and leans against his desk, arms folded, waiting for me to speak.

"Erin is okay," I tell him because it's what I would've wanted to hear. "She didn't relapse. She is up in her room sleeping."

"Mmhmph," he grunts, retreating behind his desk. "Did she go see Bunny?"

I nod.

Hank's lips press firmly into a line, and his eyes are serious as he looks at me. "Did she tell you why?"

I nod again.

Hank waits for me to elaborate, when I don't he shakes his head. "You know, I turned a blind eye to you two being a couple in my unit. So If I ask a question, as a courtesy to me, you can answer for the other."

"Not this time," I tell him. "I think she wants to tell you herself."

A heavy silence settles over us.

Hank nods pensively, almost like he's pondering on whether to beat the information out of me. "How bad is it?"

I think. Up until yesterday I would have told Hank that it was bad. Really bad. But after what I experienced and saw this morning, I think it's the most amazing thing. A miraculous thing.

"It's not bad," I tell him. Again, what I would've wanted to hear. And it's the truth. "I promise you everything is fine. Just let her come to you."

Hank nods. "You worried about her?"

"I always worry about her," I tell him and my answer seems to satisfy him. The speculative gleam in his eyes eases.

I get up to leave and just before I do Hank says, "Thank you for bringing her back."

"Always," I nod and leave.

I busy myself with mundane tasks around the Refuge while Erin sleeps off her exhaustion from the past couple of days. Maybe I'm also keeping my own mind busy to stifle any dark thoughts. I know if I let my mind go rampant, I will have a panic attack. I need to be strong for her - for _them_ , regardless of how I really feel.

Later in the afternoon I go to Erin's room with lunch, but I find her still asleep. I sit on the bed and run my fingers through her hair, caressing her tenderly. Slowly, I wake her up by calling her name in a soft voice. She opens her eyes, blinking a few times, and frowns, seeming surprised to see me here.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but you need to eat," I say, still caressing her honey hair.

"Thanks," she murmurs, making a face. "But I don't feel like eating."

"I know, but it's important. You need your strength. Try to eat at least a little. Then you can go back to sleep."

I help her sit up, handing a tray with an assortment of foods from the kitchen. She begins to pick at it. I kiss the top of her head and smile.

"Did Mouse finish the virus?" she asks.

I nod. "It's done and he has been able to mess with the Aedes like we planned. We are just waiting for them to schedule a shutdown to introduce it."

"Did, um, Hank ask for me?" Erin asks meekly, her fork hovering in the gap between the tray and her mouth.

"He did. We should talk to him as soon as you're up to it."

Erin shakes her head. "I told you I want to talk to him alone," she says.

"Erin, you don't have to—"

"I know. I know." Erin interjects with a hand to my thigh. "But I want to do this alone."

"If that's what you want..."

"That is what I want," she says firmly.

Erin finishes eating and lies back down on the bed. For a moment, I stare down at her, then I crawl up and hover over her. I begin to push her shirt up to expose the bare flesh of her abdomen. I plant a soft kiss against her belly button as I pull her to me. I lay my head on her belly and listen.

"I hear grumbling. Is that the baby?"

"No, that's my stomach saying it's not too happy with the lunch I just ate."

I place my mouth against her stomach. "Hello in there," I say. Then place my ear against the taut skin. "I said hello in there!" I tap gently on her belly. "This is your father speaking. You'd better start letting your mother eat. Do you understand me?"

Erin laughs and pushes my face away. "Leave the baby alone."

"I just want him or her, to know I mean business." I lean in again. "Do you hear me. I mean business!"

"Stop being silly."

I look up at her and I cannot imagine her face being any sweeter then at this very minute, and then it is, as she smiles wider. I lay my head against her for a moment and listen to her heart beat. Longing travels through me - the longing to hold her through eternity.

Rising back up, I push her T-shirt up and over her head as Erin extends her arms upwards, allowing me to undress her. Unclasping her bra, I smile at her and drop her shirt to the floor. Erin grins back as she lifts herself up and busies herself undoing the buttons of my flannel shirt, pushing it from my chest and over my shoulders to join her shirt on the floor.

I gently push her back down on the bed, kissing her mouth with pure desire. Erin wraps her arms tightly around me, pressing her bare chest against mine. Easing down her body, I leave a trail of wet kisses against her neck, my tongue dancing against the indentation of her clavicle, down to her breasts.

I part my lips ever so slightly to allow just the top of her nipple inside. I suckle slowly, easing more and more of her into my mouth. Erin gasps.

"Tell me," I whisper. "Tell me if I hurt you."

"I'm fine," she manages to say.

My hands reach to cradle her other breast against my fingertips and at the heat of my touch she moans. She is soft and warm, tempting me ever on.

I kiss her lower, trailing my tongue from her belly button to the elastic of her panties. I'm dying to taste her, to please her, to make her mind go blank.

Over her panties I kiss the soft mound of her flesh at the apex of her thighs. I lean closer, blindly kissing my way from her clit to the wet warmth I want to enter. Her fingers sink into my hair as she draws me closer.

Erin is extremely sensitive. Every second, her panties grow wetter, and I use my fingers to tease the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. I'm taking my time, letting the fire build within her. My mouth only lingers for fleeting moments each time I kiss her, lick her. When her back arches away from the bed and she thrusts her hips forward, I know that's my cue.

I tug her panties to the side, exposing her to me. I smile as I go in for the ultimate kiss. My tongue plunges into her warmth while my thumb massages her clit in a firm, slow circle. I hear Erin's hand slap against her mouth as she tries to contain her cries. I love that I'm the only one that is privy to this side of her. I love that I'm the one that does this to her.

Her muscles are already tightening as I taste her, so I kiss he harder and groan as I do. Erin lets out a scream, and as she lets herself come undone, she tastes like bliss.

I can't get enough.

I enter her in a long, slow stroke. We keep up this pace as our gazes meet in the growing dark. I love her. I don't deserve her. I find peace in her arms and ecstasy in her warmth. She chases away my demons and is once again giving my life a purpose with the piece of us that's growing inside of her.

With joyous abandon, I push in and out, faster, surging to higher peaks, while she rises to meet me, matching me stroke for stroke. When Erin pulses around me, I can't hold back my orgasm. I look at her and she peers from beneath her incredible lashes. She's beautiful. Her hair is in disarray, her skin is flushed, her eyes dark, and I've never seen her more alluring. She's perfect.

I don't close my eyes, even as I kiss her, I don't want miss even an instant of her.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. It would mean the world if you could leave a review (constructive criticism/comment/suggestion). I will use it to shoo away my writer's block. ;) Cheers!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you for all your kinds words. I can't tell how much they meant to me, specially with the dark writer's block cloud hovering above me. Tried to get this chapter out as fast as I could.**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Erin's POV**

It's always the same nightmare.

Big house. Bay windows. The baby cries. I step inside and splash through a surface. I see tiny arms and legs flailing by the shore. I try to swim towards it, but I barely move at all. I'm floating, then sinking, then choking, then drowning. I try to scream but there is no air. I am terrified, my lungs tighten and I gasp without thinking, swallowing the gritty water

I can't save myself. I can't the baby.

I bolt upright, blindly flailing my arms. I'm panting, staring at Jay's sleepy blue eyes hovering above me.

"It's okay. You're okay." His voice is soothing and his hands are caressing my face. "You're okay," he repeats.

I suck in a deep breath and wait to regain my equilibrium. When I do, I lay back down on the bed. This nightmare keeps haunting me. Every time I close my eyes it rears its ugly head. I know it's just a dream, but it feels so real that it is leaves me frightened and uneasy.

 _Why can't I save the baby?_

Jay watches me quietly, propped up on his elbow bedside me, unsure what to say. After a beat, he clears his throat, "Want to talk about it?"

After hesitating, I say, "Not really." I do, but I'm afraid what the dream represents. _I can't save the baby._ "It's just a silly dream."

The angst must have shown as plainly on my face as in my voice. Jay smooths my hair and kisses my brow. "It's not a silly dream. Not when you wake up like this."

I sigh, feeling his arm around my waist, and his breath warm against my neck. "I dreamt that I fell into a lake - it could've been an ocean, I don't know. But I could see the shore and there was a baby crying. I tried to swim towards it, but I couldn't." I exhale. "I couldn't save myself or the baby."

He cups my face in the dark, thumbs stroking my cheeks. "I guess I'll just have to teach you how to swim then." He grins. "It's not hard. But perhaps…" His hand travels under my shirt to the top of my flat belly and a grin flashes across his lips. "…in a few months you'll probably float on your own."

He mimics a big belly with a contemptuous swipe of his hand. I punch him in the arm. Hard.

"I'm not turning into a floatation device."

"I'm just saying." He smiles, but then his face turns serious, the lines pull deep around his mouth. "The baby is safe," he says as if reading my thoughts. "And I intend to keep a close eye on him or her. And I'm not letting you out of my sight or out of my arms either."

Jay gathers me in closer and brings his mouth to mine. Deep kisses, small sweet ones, fills my world until we break apart.

"So, you're talking to Hank tomorrow?" He asks carefully. His tone is solemn; the rush of his breath ruffles my hair.

"Yes."

"He is probably going to punch me."

Now it's my turn to smile. "Why would you think that?"

Jay's hand travels under my hair and begins idly to fondle my neck. "I knocked up his daughter," he says matter-of-factly. "He was already weary about us together. I'm sure he tried to talk you out of _this_." He motions between us.

I turn my head to look up at him; the movement brings my ear within reach of his fingers, and he begins to stroke lightly around it.

"He didn't try to talk me out of it," I say and Jay raises a skeptical eyebrow and chuckles humorlessly. "Let me handle him. He looks like a tough guy, but inside he is a big teddy bear."

"Right." Jay chuckles again and carefully pushes my hair away from my face and slips his hand back around me. "You should go back to sleep. Big day tomorrow."

I cuddle against him, tucking my foot between his legs, loving the way he feels against me, so soft and naked and warm. I sigh and allow my eyes to close. I forget that my whole world is uncertain, and I simply live in this one, wonderful moment.

At peace. Content.

x

When I awaken the next morning the sun is shining brightly through the window. I sit up straight in bed and turn over and look at Jay who is lying on his stomach, one arm dangling over the side of the bed, out for the count and snoring quietly. I extricate dexterously from him and make my way to the bathroom.

I shower and as I'm drying myself I stop to look in the mirror. Twelve weeks. How could I look so much the same when everything has changed completely? I put my hand on my stomach, but I feel nothing. It is flat, taut even. There is no bump, no bulging, no nothing. There is nothing to give me away. Yet.

 _How long will it stay this way?_ I have no reference and no one to ask. Surely I still have a few weeks.

I get ready and go to the pen - it's empty, except for Hank and Mouse chatting away. Hank doesn't seem to be surprised to see me.

"Erin." He says and motions with his head towards his office.

He excuses himself from Mouse and I follow behind him. Once inside I sit across from him, feeling quiet nervous.

"How is it going?" he asks.

"Fine. Great." Actually panicked, but I'm not quite ready to tell him yet. How am I supposed to break this to him?

"You're upbeat."

Shit. I'm overcompensating. Upbeat definitely doesn't describe how I feel. I try my best to ignore my nervousness, but I can't get any words to come out of my mouth.

"Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to pry it out of you?" Hank sits on the edge of his desk and ruffles my hair. "Kid, rip it like a Band-Aid."

After a long moment of hesitation, I say, "I-I am, um… I'm pregnant."

A mixture of emotions flashes across his face, but anger and hurt are not among them. "You sure?"

I nod and pull the grainy black and white picture from the ultrasound. "I saw Natalie yesterday. I'm 12 weeks along."

As a giant smile breaks across his face, I realize I've never, not one time, seen Hank smile this big. I recognize affection in the depths of his eyes, and something inside me that I didn't known was clenched suddenly relaxes. Tears brim my eyes making everything blurry. I don't even see when he pulls me for a hug.

"Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," I assure him, dabbing my eyes.

He pulls away and looks me straight in the eyes. "Is this why you went to see Bunny?"

I nod. I tell him about Cicero and Bunny. I tell him about the old lady and her filthy house. "I didn't know this could happen. It doesn't happen. I just wanted to make it go away." I tell him feeling incredibly ashamed. I rub my hands against my pants in a spasm of guilty and regret. "I should have never gone, but I was scared," I explain. "I didn't know what to do. I didn't know I wanted, and—"

"—But you know now?" He interjects.

"Yes," I tell him. I breath deep and wipe my eyes again. "Yes, I do."

He nods understandingly. After a beat he says, "Congratulations."

I nod. "I don't know how I'm going to do this. I don't know the first this about taking care of a baby."

Hank smiles. "You'll figure it out. They don't need much."

I release a watery chuckle.

We continue talking and time slips by unbeknownst to us. Hank tells me about when he found out Camille was pregnant. He tells me about the day Justin was born, about the happiness and the overwhelming love that exploded inside of him. There's this permanent smile on his face, and he is a little softer now, not all hard edges.

At one point, Hank motions with his chin outside. I turn and see Jay wearing a hole on the bullpen floor with all his pacing.

"Should we let him in, or should we let him boil little longer?" He asks with a malicious grin.

I chuckle. "Let him in. He is worried that you're going to punch him."

Hank chuckles. "Well, I haven't made up my mind yet." He walks to the door and opens it. Wiping his forehead, his face turns serious. His lips set in a hard line. "Jay," he intones and motions for him to join us in his office.

Jay walks inside and stands near my chair. He gazes down at me nervously and I can see all the blood drain from his face. Hank is probably enjoying seeing him so flustered.

"I know what you're thinking, but I love Erin, and I promise that I will keep _them_ safe. If it ever comes down to me or _them,_ it will always be _them_. Always. You have my word." Jay continues to ramble on as if he'd practiced this sweet little speech.

"Jay-" Hank interrupts raising his hands. After an awaked pause he says, "Congratulations."

Jay softens. The worried lines stretched across his forehead disappears. I smile up at him as relief steams from the inner layer of his clothes. The two men clasp hands and then pat each other on the back in a stereotypical grown-man hug.

"You got me," Jay says. "You got me good."

"This is quiet the occurrence. I'm happy for you both. It will be nice to hear the pitter-patter of little feet running around here. Kids have a knack for cheering up a room," Hank says wistfully.

Jay pulls me to my feet and clasps my face, nuzzling me lovingly. The mood is light and I feel at ease and optimistic, like I can actually do this. Be a mom. I know I'm the luckiest girl alive to have found a love like his, a support system like this, and I'm determined to protect it for as long as I live.

We lose track of time until there's a knock on the door. I'm surprised to see Natalie on the other side holding a folder in her hand. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. Is this a good time?"

"Yes," I say. "Come in."

Natalie walks in and looks between Jay and I, then Hank.

"Hank knows," I assure her.

"Okay." Natalie smiles more at ease, though not fully. "I was looking for you and Burgess said you'd be here." She pauses. "I got your test results. I didn't want to tell you at the infirmary in case anyone heard us."

Natalie opens the folder and we all look at her expectedly. Jay grips my arm and pulls me to him. I begin to involuntarily tremble in his grip and he pulls me even closer and kisses my head, holding me to his chest. I can hear his heart beating loudly in my ears.

"All your labs are normal and since you're at the twelve-week mark, there's very little chance of a miscarriage."

I nod.

Natalie looks down at the folder and hesitates.

"Is the baby a donor?" Jay asks, point blank.

Natalie's gaze falls, but she nods soberly, unable to voice the answer. She clears her throat and adds with a humble apologizing look. "Type O."

Jay stills for a moment, fighting to control his face, but I see the tiny flicker of shock that widens his eyes and the sudden panic, swiftly quelled, that tightens the corners of his mouth. when he turns to face me, his lips are thin and bloodless, which scares me. I look at Hank and he looks shaken, but tries not to show it too.

I shake my head in utter disbelief. I clear my throat, trying my hardest to hold back my tears. "Are you sure? Maybe it was a false positive. Maybe…" I say, squeezing Jay's arm. I feel his muscles tense beneath my touch. "…You picked up the antibodies from my blood."

Natalie shakes her head forlornly. "Your markers are different from the baby's. I tested fragments of cell-free DNA from your placenta that's circulating in your blood."

"Jay donated his blood to me. Maybe it's his DNA you picked up," I try again. "It could be Jay's, right?" I look around the room for confirmation, but neither Jay not Hank say anything. "Right?" I insist.

Natalie shakes her head sadly at me.

I see and feel with pain and alarm that is Jay slowly detaching from me. This is exactly what he didn't want to happen, and now that it has, I feel his unbearable grief overflow through an unseen channel between us.

"I-I need some air," he says and walks out.

"Jay-"

"-Let him go," Hank says.

"But-"

"Just give him time to deal with this," Hank says. "I don't know how I would've reacted if Justin had been a donor like me."

I plop down to the chair too shocked to do much of anything else. My thoughts are all jumbled up. It is very difficult for me to try to concentrate on anything without increasing my anxiety. "Hank, what does this mean for this baby?"

Hank takes a deep inhale and then a large exhale. "I'm going to be honest with you. There's no need to pussyfoot around this." He exhales. "Like Jay's, this baby's blood is valuable. If the Aedes gets a whiff of it, they will want the baby rather than Jay."

"Why? You can get more blood from an adult," I reason.

With a sense of sadness in his eyes, Hank says, "A child can't escape."

Ice-cold dread fills me. I hug my stomach as if to protect the little bean in there. "So, the target just shifted from Jay to the baby."

Hank nods.

I feel dizzy. I close my eyes and squeeze them tighter, trying to stop the room from spinning.

"Erin, nothing is going to happen to this baby. They won't know about it, and we'll make sure to keep it that way."

I nod, dimly recognizing the symptoms of delayed shock. Hank is still talking, but I can't hear him. His mouth is moving but the words are no longer comprehensible to my ears. I feel like I'm falling, falling, falling, and there is no ground to catch me.

"Erin…"

A comforting hand touches my shoulder.

"Erin," I hear my name again. I look up and Natalie is hovering above me. "Do you want to know what you're having?" She asks softly, that sad smile still on her face. "I can tell you if it's a boy or girl."

I nod. "Yes. I want to know."

x

Adhering to Hank's instruction, I don't go looking for Jay. But when he doesn't show for dinner, I can't keep myself away from him any longer.

The sun is sinking below the horizon line when I climb the ladder to the roof. I find Jay leaning against the ledge looking out into the nothing. He hears me approaching and turns to me, face haggard, and stares as though he's never seen me before. When I put my hand on his shoulders, he pulls me hard against his chest with a sound midway between a groan and a sob.

We cling together without speaking for minutes, both still shaking with nerves and shock. Then he mutters something, his voice so low that I catch only the word "sorry."

"Jay, you have nothing to be sorry for," I mutter, stroking his hair.

He pulls back and I can see tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. I look into his blue irises, but he doesn't seem to be looking at me. It is more like he is looking through me as they become empty and lifeless.

"I've pretty much given you and the baby a death sentence," he says with a defeated note in his voice.

"There's no death sentence. They don't know about the baby," I parrot what Hank had said, trying to believe his words myself. "They will never know about it."

"I didn't want…" he stops, unable to continue. He casts a glance at the horizon, where the moon Is hanging low and tries again. "I didn't want this for you. It's not fair-"

"Don't." I press my mouth against his to quiet him, but he pulls away, hugging himself - a substitute for the comfort he doesn't want to seek from me. "Jay, you're worth it. No matter what happens, you're so, so, _so_ worth it."

Even though he seems moved by my words, he shakes his head. "If you knew your life would be turned upside down –"

"—I wouldn't have changed a thing. _You_ are the best thing that's ever happened to me. You gave me a chance to have a family. A real one. Something I've never dreamed I could."

Jay stares at me. "I should've listened to my dad. I should stay away. Nothing good can come out from being near me. I didn't tell you about Korangal Valley." He pauses, then looks up at me with desperate bravery. "There was this eight-year-old girl. I remember her face like it was yesterday. The Hunters came for me, we exchanged fire and my bullet went through a wall and ripped open her neck." He looks away. "I can still see her. I can see all the faces looking at me. I murdered that child."

I watch his hand. With his face turned away, it is the best indicator of his emotions.

He tells me more, with hesitations, sometimes with tears, much more than I can bare to hear. I want to stop him, but I bite my lip hard to keep from speaking and clasp my own hands tight together to keep from touching him too.

"People die because of me. But I've been trying to believe everything will be okay. I want to be optimistic, but I'm proven wrong. Every. Time." His face is half doubled up, contorted with an internal struggle. He hesitates, as though the next part is difficult to admit. "Nothing good can come from me."

I take one of his clenched fists and spread out his long fingers over my flat stomach. " _She_ is proof that good things come from you."

Jay stills, blinks, and looks at me stunned. "Did you say, _she?"_

I nod and wipe my eyes with the heels of my hands. "It's a girl. Natalie told me after you left."

Jay places a hand over his mouth in shock as tears rolls down his face. "A girl?" He asks incredulously, his voice full of emotion.

I nod again, more feverishly.

His whole face softens. "God. A girl. A little girl…"

I grab his face in my hands. I want him his eyes trained on mine as I warn him, "Don't even think about leaving us with the pretense of keeping us safe."

I cradle his head against my shoulder and I feel his body relax against mine. I pull slightly back and stare into his bright blue eyes, blinking back the tears brimming to come out. "I love you," I say and it is as simple as breathing.

He takes a deep breath and say each word with great emphasis, "I love you _more_."

Without another word, he tilts my head up and greets my lips.

The kiss starts easy. Gentle. Just a touch of comfort.

Then it changes, fast.

Because in the next instant, we don't care about comfort. Need burst to life inside of us. I close my hands around his shoulders and I hold on with a strong grip. He pins me against the wall, holding my hands above my head as he enters me. I can feel his breath touch the side of my face as he leans down and starts to kiss my neck.

I bite his shoulder.

I don't know – or care – what sort of sounds I make, but I feel incapable of speech. _Zero to sixty._ Not about comfort. We climax quickly and together.

The unexpected encounter leaves us both panting and sweating, charged up and cells tingling. Sweat is pouring off the both of us as we pant face to face. I feel boneless like a jellyfish. I am sated, but I still want more of him. I always want more of him.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. Tell me what you think. Cheers!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Thanks for your wonderful reviews guys!**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Jay's POV**

"So they finally scheduled a shutdown?" Hank asks, letting out a long sigh, a rare smile pulling at his lips. "When?"

Mouse looks up from his computer screen, and the entire bullpen turns to him expectant, waiting to hear what he has to say.

"In two days."

"Is the virus ready to go?" Hanks asks.

Mouse nods. "Yes."

Hank looks pleased, nodding his head, the harsh lines of his face softening ever so slightly

"So how are we going to play this?" Antonio asks.

"Once we have access to their security network, we can disable it and begin our take down from the inside, bottom up. We have the blueprint and now we have the access. They won't see us coming."

"While we were looking at the blueprint, Kev and I found another pipeline from the outside that leads to the Aedes," Ruzek chimes in. "It's a hidden HVAC system that is no longer in use. They replaced it a couple of years back, but didn't tear down the old ducts." He pauses and walks up to the board and point to the blueprint. "Right there. it's smaller than the other pipe, but big enough for Erin to crawl inside."

Erin and I quickly exchange glances, before she smiles up at him. "Yeah. That's doable, but—"

"You won't need to worry about being infected this time," he adds playfully.

"Oh, right. Yeah. That too," she says.

Hank doesn't say anything, but looks pointedly between Erin and I. We figure we should probably come right out with it. They are family. They should know too.

Erin pushes herself up slowly from her desk. "I need to tell you guys—"

" _We_ need to tell you guys something," I interject and she smiles warmly at me. Her cheeks are pink; her eyes, soft and glowing with a bit of apprehension. I walk to where's she is standing and reach for her hand and bring it to my lips.

"If you're going to tell us you're together, don't' bother. We know," Ruzek says jokingly, and of course everyone chuckles lightheartedly.

"It's not that," Erin says. "We consider you guys family and we wanted to tell you before rumors start."

"We also ask that this doesn't leave intelligence," I add.

"Ya'll are making me nervous. Just come out with it," Kevin says.

Erin appears to be drawing into herself, the skin tightening across her cheekbones. After a short pause, Erin says, "I'm pregnant."

The room falls completely silent. You could hear a pin drop. The only sound I'm aware of is my heart thumping in my chest.

"Pregnant?" Kevin says, breaking the silence. "Like, for real?"

We nod.

"I'm a few weeks into my second trimester," Erin adds, with an uncharacteristic shyness to her voice.

"T-That's wild," Ruzek says. "And It just happened?"

Erin nods. "We didn't know it was possible…"

"But this is good news, right?" Ruzek says, looking around at others for confirmation.

Erin smiles. "It's good news."

Everyone comes around and gives us congratulatory hugs and pats on our backs. The mood is light and happy. I smile and accept everyone's cheerful words, Erin too. Her face is suddenly freed from the little cloud of worry that had hovered there a minute ago. I watch her hand caress the still mostly flat surface of her belly as though it is our baby's skin she is touching, rather than her own.

"There's one more thing," I say and I get everyone's attention again. I look at Erin and the smile fades from her lips, and she adopts my serious demeanor like a mirror. She knows what I'm about to say.

"Don't tell me it's twins?" Ruzek ventures. "Triplets?"

"No," I shake my head, my mood sinks, and it is probably showing on my face because everyone turns serious too.

"What? Is everything okay?" Alvin asks.

"Everything is fine. Dr. Manning has been really gracious and is making sure we are healthy and well," Erin says.

I feel Erin squeeze my hand, her way of encouraging me to continue. My voice comes out in a whisper, "The baby is a donor. Type O, like me."

It takes a moment for this piece of information to be digested, and the implications to sink in. It gets quiet in the pen again. A kind of solemn atmosphere, though. Erin hugs her midsection tighter.

"This also needs to stay between us. And only us," Hank says. "If the Aedes gest a whiff of this baby's existence, they won't hesitate coming after it."

Everyone nods.

"I-I an truly sorry to put you guys in this position," I say apologetically. "You didn't sign up for this. I know it's dangerous and I know we are asking a lot—"

"I know you'd put your life on the line to protect my kids," Antonio pipes up. "I won't hesitate to do the same for yours."

"Me too," Alvin says.

"Count me in," Kevin adds.

"We won't let anything happen to him. Or her," Ruzek says.

As I hear their words, my chest squeezes tighter and tighter. I'm stand in reverent awe at their unselfish support. Not even my own blood family could have showed me the same solace.

"It's a her," Erin adds quietly, eyes watery, probably mirroring my own.

"A girl?" Ruzek asks.

She nods.

"Well, good thing her uncle here is a good shot," Ruzek says, pointing both thumbs at himself. "Don't worry, I'll keep the suitors away."

"Suitors? What century are you from?" Kevin asks.

We all laugh and hug again and Erin brakes into silent, albeit happy, tears. She's been a champion through all of this. Ever since we found out the baby was a donor, I've been tormented by my own thoughts, trapped inside my own mind, while she's been a quiet beacon of optimism. I try to shut the pessimism from my head but I can't. All I can think about is this baby being ripped from us.

For a while my story was my own. But now there are two protagonists and another five supporting characters, and I fear the end that was meant only for me will be shared by everyone.

The bullpen meeting is adjourned and we all go our separate ways, doing our routine jobs around the Refuge. Erin retreats to the greenhouse, while I help patrol canvas the Refuge.

Around midday when the sun is at its highest, I get a message from Hank - he wants to see me. I venture back inside and am greeted by the cool air-conditioned air. I go up to the pen and his office door is open. I knock and simultaneously poke my head inside.

"You wanted to see me?" I ask.

"Yeah. Come in," he waves me in from behind his desk.

"How's Erin?"

"She's good. Dr. Manning is keeping a close eye on her," I reply.

"Mmmphm." He nods. "How are you holding up?"

I think before I answer, pondering on how honest I should be. "I'm scared. I worry I won't be able to protect them. The Aedes won't hesitate coming after my girls."

Hank nods. "We'll keep them out of sight for as long as possible. No one will think Erin is pregnant. It will be the last thing they'll suspect. If word gets out, we'll make a formal announcement to quench the rumors. We won't mention she's a donor."

"Shouldn't they know, though? This affects them too. Full disclosure is always the best policy."

"Not here," Hank says with a hint of finality in his voice. "This stays in intelligence."

I nod, watching Hank look down on his hands, turning them over though looking for something hidden in the lines of his palms. His face is expressionless as usual, but the crinkled eyelids twitch at the corners. I have a feeling our wellbeing is not why he called me up here to discuss.

"Is this why you called me up here?"

Hank stands up and turns on his heel and pauses, thoughtfully, as though considering his words. "Did you talk to anyone when you went to Cicero?"

"Not really, as soon as I got to the center of town Erin was coming down the hill, Bunny trailing behind her," I say.

"So you met Bunny," he asks pointedly.

"Only briefly. We exchange pleasantries nothing more. There was no time for formal introductions. All my focus was on bringing Erin home."

Hank stands with his hands on his hips. I don't fail to see the worry-lines growing deeper across his features.

"What? What is it?" I ask.

"Does she know you are the father?"

"I'm can't see why she wouldn't think so."

Hank shut his eyes and begins to inhale and exhale deeply.

"What?" I ask again, feeling a cold dread fill my gut. "What are you not telling me?"

"I don't trust Bunny as far as I can throw her. She won't think twice before selling you out."

"What do you mean? She doesn't even know I'm a donor, and has no reason to suspect that I'm."

Hank digs through his desk and pulls out a piece of paper. Although there is no picture, there's a good sketch of my face and all my identifiers are listed. Suddenly, I feel like someone just punched me in the gut. I even let out a weird yelping sound from my throat and my eyes grow wide. I glance nervously at the paper and then back at Hank.

"The hunters have been circling this around the settlements."

I sink into the chair, defeated, deflated, and immobile. "She knows about the baby," I say, understanding where Hank is getting at. "Would she sell out her own daughter, though?"

Hank scoffs. "It wouldn't be the first time."

My dad and Bunny should meet. They seem to have a lot in common.

"Can we just ask for her silence?" I ask, desperation creeping into my voice.

"It won't be cheap." Hank say, pulling a backpack from underneath his desk. I don't even have to ask him where's he is headed.

"You shouldn't go alone," I tell him. "At least take Ruzek or Atwater with you."

"I'll manage," he says. "Don't tell anyone where I went, specially Erin."

"Radio in if there's any trouble."

He nods. "I should be back by sunrise."

"Hank…" He stops and looks back. "Thank you," I tell him.

He pats me on the back wordlessly and leaves.

x

In the end of the day, I find Erin sitting on the fence outside the greenhouse wrapped in a shawl. The air is chilly with a hint of the coming winter. She's not aware when I approach until I wrap my arms from behind her. She smells like the fresh herbs from the garden - of parsley, basil, and cilantro.

"I could see you shivering from the door," I tell her, taking her cold hands in mine. She nestles back against me, shuddering. "You could catch a cold, if you're not careful."

"What about you?" She twists to look at me. In her defense, I'm only wearing a T-shirt.

"I like this weather." I tilt her chin up and kiss her nose, it's reddened by the increasing bite in the air. She takes me gently by the ears and adjusts my aim towards her lips.

The kiss lasts long enough for our temperature to equalize. I gradually feel myself relaxing, and the tightness of my mind gently unwinding. The breeze blows behinds us, fluttering the strands of Erin's hair across her face. I brush them off her shoulders, spreading the ruffled honey locks out with my fingers so that the setting sun shines through the strands. In this light she looks like a celestial being.

"You look like one of those saints we see with a halo on its heads," I tell her.

She chuckles softly, tracing the edge of my jaw. "I don't feel very angelic at the moment."

"Nausea still lingering?"

Erin leans back, balancing on the fence rail. "I think I made it worse by lending a hand in the greenhouse today. The different smells got to me, that's why I stepped out - to breathing in some fresh air."

"But Dr. Manning said it's normal, right?"

"Yes," she says softly, half her whole face is now lit by the glowing sun. "Everything is okay."

She reaches out and draws me to her, pulling me close, so that I'm standing between her legs. She wraps them around me and enfolds us with the wings of her shawl. She leans down and traces the lines on my forehead with her fingertips.

"Is something wrong?" She asks.

"Why would you think that?" I counter.

"You look worried."

I guess having our safety rest on Bunny keeping her mouth shut put a few worried lines on my face. I try to mask it with a smile. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

She pauses, further studying the details on my face. "You worried about the baby?" She asks.

I look at her and feel a familiar heart pang. "Yes," I answer honestly. "Though, I think it's a requirement when you become a parent. It's probably written on a manual somewhere."

She smiles sweetly at my lame attempt at a joke, then quiets for a moment. Her silence is very telling. I study her face and look deep into her eyes.

"What is it?"

She hesitates. "Have you thought about leaving?" She asks in a small, timid voice.

I do think about how my presence puts everyone in danger, and the thought of leaving does cross my mind, but I won't tell her that. "I'm not leaving. You don't ever have to worry about that."

It is only when the tension leaves her shoulders that I notice it had been there. "Good. Cause I'll come find you," she says, poking me in the ribs with her finger. "I will find you, tranq your ass, and drag you back here."

I chuckle.

"I did it once, and I will do it again," she says narrowing her eyes at me. But her teasing smile fades and her face grows serious. "Look, I want you to tell me when you feel like the hole is getting too deep. When things get dark in your head, okay? I know you worry about us. I know you might think it will be best if you weren't here. But that's not true. Not in the least bit." She runs her hands soothingly through my hair. "We all have our demons; God knows I do. But sometimes we focus too much on the bad that we forget the good."

Erin reaches for my hands and places them on top of her tiny baby bump. "Don't ever forget the good."

"Never," I say and our lips meet - a slow, sweet kiss that makes me only want more.

The sun is halfway down the horizon and its dimming rays have barely any warmth. The cold breeze has picked up and Erin and I cuddle closer together. Neither of us are ready to go back inside. We let the silence wrap around us, comforting against the cold. It is in the safety of this little cocoon we've created that I summon the courage to ask her something that's been on my mind since she told me we are having a girl.

"When should we start thinking about baby names?" I ask.

"We have nearly five months to think about." She hunches her shoulders, with one of those half-shrugs of hers. "But I guess it's never too early." She pauses studying my face. "I get the feeling though, that you have a name in mind already."

"I may have."

"Let's hear it."

I hesitate. "Eleanor." When Erin's face pinches slightly I quickly add, "We can call her Nora."

Erin's lips part as if to smile, but closes again in a neutral line that is neither smile nor frown, but might easily become either when she hears my explanation.

"It's after my mother," I tell her.

She smiles fully then, making her eyes dance and sparkle and her charming dimples appear in the perfect, smooth skin of her cheeks.

"Nora," she repeats, as if testing the name on her lips. "I like it."

"Really?" I feel a sense of relief. "I was scared you wouldn't."

"Why?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

"Nora…" She intones the name again. "Your mother seemed like a pretty amazing woman. She raised you, and you didn't turnout so bad." She smiles, reaches out and strokes my hair. "And I can't think of a better way to honor her."

I stare at her dumbstruck. I love Erin desperately – especially as of late – my love seems to be picking up speed, overwhelming me almost, tinged as it is with panic: I'm so afraid of losing her.

"She would've love you, you know that?" I pull her face to mine and kiss her. Her cheeks flush a healthy pink and she offers me a shy smile. I step back and lift her from the fence. "C'mon, let's head inside before either of us catches a cold."

x

My internal clock wakes me up sometime in the early hours of the morning. I look at Erin and she's peacefully asleep. She was restless most of the night. I'm sure the nightmare had most likely returned in one form or another throughout the night, but she hadn't cried out and she stayed mostly asleep.

I gently ease myself away from her and get up slowly. She stirs, but doesn't wake. I go to the bathroom and shave and shower quickly. On my return to the bedroom I find her still sleeping soundly. I don't want her to wake up and find herself alone. So I crouch down at her bedside and stroke her hair and softly kissed her cheek. Her beautiful emerald eyes flutter open and I smile.

"Morning, Babe," I greet her.

"Morning," she mumbles with a sleepy smile dawning her face.

I place a quick kiss on her lips. "I have some things to take care of, but try to sleep in," I tell her.

Erin frowns and looks around drowsily. "What time is it?"

"Almost five."

"Okay," she nods her head, her eyelids dropping.

"I'll meet you for breakfast," I tell her.

She snuggles underneath the covers and I leave.

I walk into the bull pen, but no one's there. The room is dark and quiet. I pace around for a minute and decide to wait for Hank at the roll up. He should be back any minute now, and just as the sun is rising, with its rays of light peeking above the horizon, the garage-like door creaks, groans, then surrenders upwards revealing Hank.

He is not one bit surprised to find me waiting for him.

"So?" I ask impatiently. Hoping he'll get straight to the point. "Were you able to talk to Bunny?"

Hank doesn't response, but his solemn face gives away the answer.

"Why would she want to hurt her daughter like that?" I ask indignantly. "I just don't get it. How can someone be so—"

"Jay," Hank raises his hand interrupting my rambling. After a beat he says, "She wasn't there."

"What?"

"Bunny. Wasn't. There."

"Oh, where do you think she went?"

Hank shakes his head. "The locals couldn't confirm, but a guy behind the bar thought she left with some city men."

My throat closes up as if to strangle me as I think of what this could mean. "Do we know who?"

Hank looks at me and gives me a look, as if to say, _you know exactly who_.

Despair comes, numbing my entire body until I can't feel my extremities. Breathing is odd, I can hear the sound of air entering and exiting my lungs, but I can't feel my lungs move, my ribs expand.

"It's not over," Hank assures me. "There's the off chance they won't believe her. She is an addict. Will do anything for a fix. Doesn't exactly scream trustworthy."

I nod. "What if the Aedes come?"

"Let's hope Mouse's virus works and we'll be able to know when they are coming."

"Then what? Everyone is uprooted because of me?"

"We'll cross that bridge then." Hank pats me on the back and before he leaves he says, "Not a word to Erin."

I nod.

Hank disappears up the stairs and I tense, resisting the feelings, but then I let my thoughts flow through me, let myself feel everything – fear, anxiety, despair, and guilt for putting everyone at the Refuge at risk. I've been trying to be strong for Erin, and prove to everyone – including myself – that I can do this. But now, facing the Aedes taking everything away from me, I realize how weak and insignificant I'm. And how quickly I must take them down.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. I always enjoy reading your comments and answering any questions you might have, so feel free to ask. Cheers!**


	21. Chapter 21

**I want to thank everyone for your feedback on the last chapter. It's very heartwarming to read all your reviews.**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Erin's POV**

The pale light of the morning sun streams through my bedroom window, though carrying none of its usual warmth. The air has that chilly bite to it and it will not be too long before I have to bring out my winter coat. The summers are long and hot, while winters are short and extremely cold.

I roll over half-asleep, reaching for Jay and notice that he is gone. The empty side of the old mattress still bears the imprint of his body, but none of his warmth.

With the success of the virus implemented into the Aedes' grid, the whole team is now focused on finding the metaphorical chinks in their armor, specially Jay. He has been working tirelessly day and night. Usually up before dawn and down long after the sun has set. I know taking down the Aedes ensures our safety and our little girl's future, but I'm afraid it might come at a high cost for him. Hank has noticed Jay's overly zealous disposition and has sent him out of the pen on various occasions to _clear his mind._

I wrap myself snugly in bed, but the cold air still seeps under the blankets making me shiver. With much effort, I get up and pull on some wool socks and a pair of jeans.

In the last week, I've started to show, just a little, but enough for my jeans to get tight and right now I have to use a rubber band to make my jeans a little more comfortable. I'm not very broad, even a little on the skinny side, so when I start to really show… it'll become visible pretty quickly. Hopefully, if I wear loose-ish shirts I can hide my pregnancy a little while longer.

I hear a sound and when I look back I see Jay standing in my bedroom doorway, looking at me.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long." He comes over and wraps his arms around me from the back, pulling me close.

There is something in his voice that makes me turn to look at him, but his face is hidden behind me.

I lean into him. "What?"

"Nothing. I just like seeing you like this in the morning." His low voice rumbles against my back. Now I recognize the emotion in his voice – it's contained excitement. Jay slides his hands down to the top of my jeans and I squirm in his arms.

"What's this?" He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.

I laugh. "It's an elastic band to keep my pants closed," I tell him.

He chuckles.

"As you can see," I say turning sideways to highlight the baby bump beneath my tank. "I can't contain it anymore."

There's a forced smile on his lips, but then he blinks and the smile comes back more naturally.

"It's barely noticeable. I look like I had a big meal," I tell him, reading his mind. I've come to accept that worry never leaves his side, but sometimes it graciously retreats to a spot a few feet away. I rise on my toes and kiss him and he returns the affection. We break apart shortly after and he wraps me in a bear hug, the warmness of his touch emanating through me.

"How on earth can you be warm as toast dressed in only a T-shirt?"

"I've got pants on too," he retorts, smiling down at me. We cling together for a bit, enjoying each other's warmth in the quiet cold of the early morning.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"I feel good. The morning sickness is pretty much gone."

"That's good."

Jay lets go of me, but holds my hand a little while longer before he steps away. "I have a surprise for you," he says walking out into the hallway. He returns hauling two big boxes.

I look at him with narrowed eyes. "What's this?"

"Open it."

I open one of the boxes and inside I find infant sleepers, dressers, onesies, and caps in the softest cotton in green, yellow, lavender, and cream. I lift a blanket and press it to my cheek. So soft. I continue to dig through the box and find diapers, bottles, bibs, and all sorts of baby items inside. My eyes well up with tears.

"Ruzek and I went back to the superstore and took all the baby items we could find. We also have a few more boxes downstairs."

"Is that why you disappeared on me this morning?"

He nods. "Sorry about that. I wanted to surprise you."

He leans in to kiss me, and I pull him down on the bed, on top of me. We quickly disrobe and I clasp the solid curves of his back, letting my hands cup his bottom. His bare skin is chilled, but the goosebumps smooths away under the warmth of my touch.

He nibbles the edges of my neck and ear, then his head dips lower, and his hand gently spread my thighs apart. I shiver momentarily as the cold air hits the bare skin of my legs, then relax completely into the warm demand of his mouth. His thick hair brushes against my thighs and the solid weight of his body rests comfortably between my legs, broad hands cup on the roundness of my hips.

"Mmmm?" Comes an interrogative sound from below.

I arch my hips slightly in response, and a brief chuckle grazes my skin with warmth.

The hands slides beneath my hips and raises me, and I relax into deliquescence as the tiny shudders grow and spread, rising in seconds to a fulfillment that leaves me limp and gasping. Jay's head rests against my thigh while he waits for me to recover, caressing the slope of my leg, before returning to his self-appointed task of pleasing me once again.

"Wait, Jay…" I say straining upward. "Come, here."

"Not yet," he says doing something with the tip of his tongue that makes me squirm uncontrollably.

"No, Babe… Oh God, come here," I mumble.

He doesn't bother to reply, but his muffled laugh vibrates against my all too sensitive flesh.

"Jay," I say more firmly. "I want you. Come _here_."

Sighing in resignation, he rises to his knees and lets me pull him upwards, settling with his weight balanced on his elbows, but comfortably solid on top of me, belly to belly and lips to lips.

He opens his mouth to protest – I know he is concerned he might hurt the baby now that she is getting bigger– but I promptly kiss him, and he slides between my thighs before he can stop himself. He moans slightly in involuntarily pleasure as he enters me, muscles tensing as he grips my shoulders.

He is gentle and slow, pausing now and then to kiss me deeply, moving again only at my silent urging. I run my hands softly down the slope of his back, absorbing his warmth. The long muscles of his thigh trembles briefly against my own, but he holds back, unwilling to move as quickly as he needs to.

"I won't break; you know? And the baby is perfectly safe in here," I say smiling into his eyes.

He laughs huskily. "You sure? I keep thinking she doesn't want me to do… _that_."

"She has no idea."

I move my hips against him, to bring him deeper. He closes his eyes, and his brow furrows slightly in concentration. He draws in a long, ragged breath and leans in to kiss me. Then he's pushing deep inside me again, over and over, in between bouts of kissing my lips, my collarbone, and my breasts. I feel his climax deep inside me and I keeping pushing my hips up until I come myself.

He gathers me close against him, his cheek pressed against my hair. I flip the blankets up and tuck it around his shoulders, sealing us in a pocket of warmth.

We lie quiet for a while, listening to the occasional footsteps in the hallway as everyone stirs to life.

"Jay," I say softly. "Are you still happy about the baby?" I ask because I still see the deep worry set in his eyes.

He is silent for a moment, only hugging me harder, before answering. "Yes." His hand strays downward, gently rubbing my belly. "I'm very happy. And excited. But very anxious too."

I can hardly blame him for his apprehension.

"I want to protect you and that baby." His voice is soft and husky, with a slight catch in it. "And to think of the things that might happen, and me helpless to stop them…" He lets the sentence go unfinished.

"We have eyes on them now. The Aedes will never catch us by surprise," I tell him. I run a hand through his hair, thick and dark against my fingers. "If there's ever any inkling of them coming, we bolt out of here. We'll be miles away before they even cross the divide."

"And where would we go?" He asks. His eyes are the color of summer skies, and the misty blue of distant mountains.

I shrug. "Somewhere where there's a lake. Or we can go east towards the ocean."

I feel his muscles relax.

I rise up on one elbow. "I will build a cabin with my bare hands," I tell him, trying to smooth down the hairs that spiked out over his left ear.

He laughs. Amusement rising in the color of his cheeks. "And I will learn how to cook."

"You'll be my perfect househusband."

"Nothin' wrong with that," he drawls and presses me tight against his chest, kissing my nose, and I hug him back with all my might.

A cabin near the water.

A girl can dream.

x

Later that same day, I head up to the bullpen and see Jay and Hank arguing in Hank's office. I can't see Jay's face, though he seems frustrated, flailing his arms about as he talks. What are they arguing about? The door is slightly ajar, and if I get close enough I might hear snatches of their conversation. I move quickly and hide near Alvin's corner where they can't see me.

Hank says, "That's not – But orders to—"

"I can't just—the next time—"

"Jay—"

I strain to hear what's being said, but I can only hear fragments of their conversation, and what I hear doesn't make any sense. I move to the other side of the pen, careful to stay hidden from view, and enter the little kitchenette area.

"Does Erin know about your plan?" Hank asks.

"I will find a way to tell her."

"What if she doesn't agree with you?"

I hear Jay releasing a big sigh. "She'll understand. It's our best bet."

"This is dangerous," Hank says. "We don't even know if she's there."

 _She who? There where?_

"It's the only way. For all we know she is out there finding the highest bidder for the information."

I hear Hank grunt in agreement. There's a beat of silence before Hank asks, "Does Erin know about the cord blood? Did Natalie tell her?"

"No. She doesn't know."

 _Cord blood?_

"Maybe you should start there," Hank advises.

"The last thing I want is for Erin to have one _more_ thing to worry about."

"Do you want to keep her in the dark?"

"For now," Jay says.

I sense that their conversation is nearing its end. I have to leave before they find me here. I tip toe out of the pen with my heat hammering against my ribs. I feel anger boiling in my chest, like a pot of soup on a flame that's too high. They have no right to keep me in the dark. No right at all.

I walk down the hall towards the infirmary. I burst inside startling - borderline frightening - some of the nurses. "Where's Nat-Dr. Manning?" I ask.

I few nurses scurry about and I smooth my hair and attempt to keep my composure. Soon enough Natalie rushes out from somewhere out back.

"Erin, everything okay?"

I nod. I feel the stirrings of frustration and indignation in my belly, and I do everything in my power to keep them form showing on my face. "Can we talk in private?"

Natalie nods. "Of course. This way."

I follow her down the infirmary hall until she finds an empty room. "What's going on? Did something happen?"

I hesitate. "Tell me about the cord blood."

Natalie is immediately taken aback by my request. I watch her think for a moment before she looks at me with a hint of reluctance. She's about to say something, but when she opens her mouth nothing comes out.

"I know you told Jay, and I _deserve_ to know too."

"Of course." She paces before she sits on a stool, takes a deep breath, and says in a normal cadence. "Do you remember what I did before Hank found me?"

I nod. "You were a doctor in the city."

Natalie nods. "That's right. But I also did a lot of research through the medical institute." She hesitates before she adds, "Geared towards finding a permanent treatment for the viral pandemic."

"I thought all treatment options had been exhausted," I say.

Natalie nods. "This was off the books. No one knew what we were doing."

"Did you find a cure?" I ask ironically, and to my surprise she nods. "W-What…? Really?"

"Yes. It is possible to engineer a therapeutic serum from stem cells of Typo O donors."

"Wha.…" I can't handle it and my anger flares up again. "You knew about this and never said anything? We could've had an antidote this whole time and you kept quiet?"

"It's not that simple—"

"—It is that simple. You knew Jay was a donor. You could've—"

"—The serum can't be made from adult stem cells," she interjects. "It has to be embryonic stem cells."

"Wait…" My heart pounds, my breathing is heavy, my mouth is dry, and my hands shake. "You don't mean to take from…" I breathe, folding my arms protectively over my stomach. "You can't take cell from my—"

"No," she shakes her head. "No, no. Not from the baby. From the umbilical cord."

I pause, quietly digesting the information and processing what this means. "So, you can make this serum using the cells from the umbilical cord?"

Natalie nods, her eyes wide and bright, hope burning within them.

"And the city knows this is possible?"

Natalie nods again.

I don't understand. "Why haven't they done it?"

"When we figured this out…" Natalie lowers her voice and glances around as though someone is lurking behind her. "…the Aedes shut the whole program down. Most of my colleagues who headed the project mysteriously disappeared shortly after. That's when I decided to escape. I knew they would come for me eventually."

"Why would they—" As I begin to formulate the question, I'm hit straight in the gut with the answer. "A cure means they lose control. Blood is their currency."

Natalie nods sadly. "Yes."

I suddenly feel heavy. It is almost like I have a weight on my shoulders, and I'm starting to feel it get heavier and heavier with each passing moment.

"So, if they find out about her…" I rub my small baby bump. "They will come to kill me - to make sure this serum is never made."

Natalie nods again.

My anger gives away to tears. I feel like my world is caving in around me and someone is squeezing my heart with pliers.

"God Erin, you look white as a sheet. Here, have a seat," Natalie says, pulling a stool over to me. Her eyes scan me worriedly as she lifts my wrist, taking my pulse.

"I-I'm f-fine," I tell her, though I feel like all the energy has been drained out of me. "And Jay knows about all of this?"

Natalie nods. "I only told him this morning. I wasn't sure I could make the serum, but I dug through all I had salvaged from my time at the medical institute and I was able to piece the protocol together. I didn't say anything before because I want to give anyone false hope."

I get up slowly— in the hopes that maybe if I take my time I won't look so distraught. "Thank you, Natalie."

"Look Erin, I'm so—"

"—There's nothing to be sorry about," I tell her. "You've been a wonderful friend."

I leave the infirmary knee deep in emotional energy. I am filled with grief and despair and hope simultaneously.

x

It's dinner time and I head to the cafeteria. My head is still reeling from all that Natalie told me. I rest my elbows on the battered table, and park my chin on my folded hands. Jay shows up moments later. He smiles, then comes behind me, bending to put his arms around me. I'm still rather cross at him, but I can't help but feel better having the strength and the bulk of him behind me. He kisses me lightly on top of my head.

"Were the dinner options that bad today?"

I shake my head. "Not feeling very hungry."

"Do I have to talk to the kid to lay off for a minute? Cause I'll do it," he whispers low in my ear.

I smile faintly and he immediately notices something is wrong beyond the normal pregnancy aches and pains.

"Why don't we grab some food and bring it up to the room, huh?"

I nod, knowing we can't talk here, and we desperately need to talk.

We go up to the room and I pick at my food. I don't even know how to rationalize my thoughts. I don't even know where to begin. Jay is quietly eating, watching me, his deep blue eyes are hooded in thought. I think he is waiting for me to go first, giving me a chance to open up. Perhaps I should just start with the obvious.

"I overheard you and Hank talking in his office today."

Jay's face goes a little pale for a minute. He puts his fork down, really slowly, wipes his mouth off with a napkin and swallows his food.

"I also talked to Natalie. I know about the cord blood," I add. "So, tell me everything, from beginning to end."

The line between his eyes deepens, but he smiles at me and tells me everything. He tells me about Bunny's disappearance. He tells me about the 'wanted pamphlets' of him circling around the settlements. Then he tells me he fears Bunny will put two-and-two together and will give us up.

"Hank doesn't trust her," he says.

I nod. "I don't trust her either." I feel my anger dissipate just a little. A fraction. A fraction of a fraction. But I feel it. "You have a plan," I say.

He takes a deep breath and nods. "I want to find your mom. We need her silence. I think she's at the capital."

"As soon as you step foot there you'll be captured," I tell him, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. Jay doesn't say anything, but from the expression on his face, I'm already guessing that's his intent. "Wait, you want to be captured?"

"I want to find your mom," he repeats with infuriating calmness.

"If you get captured. You'll not be _here_ ," I snap angrily.

"If Bunny tells them about you, then everyone here is in danger, specially you. They will not come to bargain; they will come to annihilate the Refuge." He moves closer to me, reaching for my hand. "This is not me leaving. This is ensuring _her_ future. E _veryone's_ future."

He pulls me close as he often does, gathering me against his chest and resting his cheek against my hair. I can feel his heart beating against my ears, and I want nothing more than to stay here forever, not moving, not making love, just breathing the same air.

As much as I'm upset, I also know that it isn't fair to jeopardize all those living here at the Refuge. As much as I hate to admit it, Jay is right. This is bigger than me. It's bigger than all of us. Someone has to go find my Bunny.

A last Jay murmurs, "If I get caught Bunny's word won't stand against mine. You'll be protected and it might just buy us time until Nora gets here and Natalie can make the serum."

Pain chokes my voice as I murmur, "When do you leave?"

I can see him struggling to master the emotions on his face. "The sooner the better."

Tears spring to my eyes and I can't hold them back. They snake freely down my cheeks.

"It's not a goodbye." His voice is quiet, barely audible. "Far from it. I'm coming back and I'm sticking to you like glue. You'll never get rid of me." He smiles, but his blue eyes are shiny with unshed tears. "Then we'll take a trip east to the ocean, or north towards the great lakes." He wipes my cheeks. "And Nora will grow up free."

"I want" —my voice breaks suddenly and I have to swallow hard before continuing – "I want all of that with you and more."

My eyes are so full of tears that I can see his face clearly. His arms go tighter around me and the heat of him engulfs me like a monsoon. We hold each other for a long time without speaking.

"I wish I could just keep you here," I whisper to him.

His hand, large and warm, moves slowly and cups the swell of my belly, sheltering and caressing.

"I'll be here," he whispers, face buried in my hair. "Right here."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading. Your input is always welcomed. Cheers!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Hello everyone. I tried to get this out sooner, but life got busy this past week. Again, I always want to thank each and everyone of you for your continued support.**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Jay's POV**

I dream of Erin's arms around me, her lips pressing to mine. But then my dreaming and waking worlds shift, and suddenly, there are arms wrapped tenderly around my chest and soft lips kissing me. Struggling out of my sleep haze, I open my eyes and notice it's still the middle of the night.

"Erin…?"

She doesn't respond, but moves to kiss my neck, nipping and biting the base of my left ear. Then I feel her hands slide between my legs and shortly after, her mouth follows. She takes me all the way to the back of her throat and every part of my body awakens and stands at attention.

The mix of sensations, her tight grip followed by soft lips, her quiet moans mixed with my harsh grunts of pleasure, my hand fisted in her hair, and the endless pleasure of going deeper in her mouth catapults me over the edge of reason. My heart is frantic, all sensibility thrown out the damn window as the grenade of sensation explodes within me. I come hard; the feeling streaking up and back down in a fiery flash of everything and nothing at once.

I still am not entirely sure I'm not dreaming.

Erin pulls back and her eyes get to me. She looks at me with an openness I've never seen before. She's not holding anything back. It takes me a minute to get my wits about me, my mind is still reeling from what just happened.

"Come here." My voice sounds drugged and drowsy.

I pull her to me and our bodies lock together, our legs appearing to meld into a single pair, fingers intertwined, touching all along our lengths. I seal my lips over hers, kissing her thoroughly, unhurriedly, and warm. The kiss slowly fades, leaving us breathless against one another's faces, noses touching and bodies pressed close.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" I ask, kissing her again. "I'd do anything for you. _Anything._ "

"That's what I'm scared of," she rasps. "I'm not ready for you to leave."

A few tears escape from the corners of her eyes. I wipe them away with my thumbs and lean in to kiss her quivering lips, whispering all of my love. Whispering all of my need.

We make love gently, slowly, our kisses long and unhurried. We savor every morsel of it, prolonging it as much as we can. Each touch, each moment is relished, remembered – treasured as a keepsake against an uncertain future empty of each other.

I touch each soft hollow, the hidden places of her body, feel the grace and curves of each bone. Taste the salty sweat on her throat, smell the sweetness of her hair. We climax in unbearable ecstasy and the shudder that goes through her goes through me, as though we are one. This woman fills my body with desire and my heart with more love than I'd ever thought it capable of holding.

We lie pressed together, unmoving, desperately clinging to on one another like it's our last time. Tomorrow I leave for the capital. I don't know what will happen to me. The plan is to find Bunny and get out. But I know it won't be that simple. I'm doing this for Erin. For Nora. They are my heaven in this world full of hell.

x

It's early morning when I wake up. Erin is still face down next to me, breathing deeply in her sleep. The sun has not yet risen, but I have to get up because I have a few things I want to do before I need to be on the road. I'm trying not to think, just do. One foot in front of the other, one thing at a time. I'm on autopilot, trying to make everything seem normal, trying to still my head, my heart – which I'll leave behind once I go.

I get dressed, go to my room, and begin to pack a few things when I find the little red velvet box that's been in my pack as a keepsake since my mother passed. Before I have a chance to lose myself in thought there's a knock on my door.

I stuff the box inside my pocket and open the door. To my surprise, Hank is on the other side. He looks intently at me, his jaw clenched, his face stoic.

"Good morning," he says in an uncharacteristically subdue tone, and it catches me off guard.

"M-Morning. Uh, you want to come in?" I ask, but Hank hesitates. "Oh, Erin is not here," I assure him. I point my chin towards her room down the hall. "She's still asleep."

The lines on his face relaxes. "How about we grab some coffee."

"Sure," I say.

The cafeteria is quiet. We enter through the serving area where most of the cooks are already preparing breakfast. They greet us with heads nods while we help ourselves to the coffee that's brewing. With our mugs in hand, we push our way through a set of double doors and enter the sitting area – well-lit, empty, plastic chairs upended on the tables. The scuffle of our shoes on the linoleum is the only sound echoing off the walls.

The far end of the room has couches and comfortable-looking easy chairs with coffee tables and reading racks. I follow Hank and we make ourselves comfortable there.

"So," Hank sips his coffee. "You're ready?"

Taking a deep breath, I say, "Yes. But not ready to leave Erin."

Hank nods understandingly. "How is she?"

I take a good long moment to stop and think. In the past week, Erin managed to keep her emotions at bay concerning my impeding departure. But as the days trickled away, I could she her barricades slowly collapsing.

"She's been unusually quiet, but I know she is worried. Deep down I know she understands that I have to go, but she isn't happy about it."

"Would you have changed your mind had her reaction been different?"

I shake my head. "This is the only way I can keep _them_ safe. What would you have done in my shoes?"

Hank looks around, releasing an unrestricted deep sigh. "I would do _anything_ to make sure Camille and Justin were safe." After a beat he asks, "If you can't find Bunny, what's your plan?"

I look down, biting my lip, drawing in a breath. "I'm going to surrender myself, that way if Bunny shows up, her word won't stand against mine. It at least buy us enough time for the baby to be born and for Natalie to make the serum."

Hanks looks thoughtful and solemn. "The Aedes won't be forgiving with you."

"I know, but they won't kill me." I take a long sip of my coffee, then set it down. "Look Hank, if anything happens to me make sure Erin—"

"—Let's not worry about that." Hank waves his hand dismissively. "Let's talk about how you'll go about finding Bunny."

For the next hour Hank and I discuss how to best go about finding Erin's mom. Hank knows the ins and outs of the city and has expert advice on how to get around without being seen. He then gives me a few of his contacts in the capital to reach out in case I find myself in a bind. Before long our conversation veers in other directions as the cafeteria starts to fill.

"I better get going," Hank says, standing. "I will see you at the roll up."

I nod and we part ways. I set out to make the last of my preparations before I have to leave.

x

When the sun has risen high enough to shine through the windows, I return to Erin just as she's waking up. I smile when she opens her eyes to looks up at me, loving the soft, sleepy look that lingers in them.

"Come back to bed," she mumbles and reaches out to tug at my shirt. I let her pull me down. She strokes my face with blind fingers and lifts her head to give me a soft sleepy kiss. "Let's stay here forever," she whispers.

My throat constricts but I manage to say, "We have to get up. I have something I want to show you." I have breakfast waiting for us on the roof.

Her eyes flutter open and widen. "What is it?"

"You have to get up to find out." I say, but she snuggles closer and I indulge her a little, pressing my lips to her temple, drinking her in, savoring each second I still have with her. After a moment, I straighten up and veer us back to reality. "C'mon, put some warm clothes on. We're going outside."

"But it's cold outside," she whines, but gets up to change.

I stare at all her curves, the way her full breasts rise and fall with each breath, the ridges of her ribs, the nip of her waist, her still evident hip bones, and the gentle swell of her belly. Her skin glows as if there is a candle burning inside her. I let the vision of her burn into my memory—not wanting to ever forget how she looks at this moment.

My beautiful Erin.

"What?" she asks, bringing me back to the room.

I smile, realizing I have been caught staring. I point at her gentle protruding belly and say, "I hope she looks just like you."

Erin turns to me and smiles. Something about the way she smiles, the way her eyes sparkle, lets me know she's been imagining what our little girl will look like too. And right this moment, I can't help getting caught in the same wonder.

"I want her to have your hair, your dimples, and your eyes—"

"—No, no, no," Erin interjects, pulling on a pair of jeans. "I want her to have your eyes."

"What? No…" I shake my head. "I love the little flecks of green in your eyes, and depending on the light, your eyes change colors just like that. Today they are more green –green with some gold."

Erin blinks several time as though she is trying to feel the color in her eyes. She lowers her head and gasps, then looks down at her belly.

"What's the matter?" I move towards her.

Erin looks up, her eyes wide, her lips parted. "S-She moved."

"The baby?" I ease closer yet.

She smiles and reaches for my hand. "Yes, of course. But I'm not sure if it's strong enough for you to feel anything yet."

She presses my hand on her stomach, and I'm engulfed in the warmth of her, the softness of her skin. Although I can't feel any movement, I don't move away, caught up in something tender and sweet and intimate. I bend down and place a kiss on the silky curve of her belly. A swell of painful love sweeps through me. The thought of not meeting this little girl cuts to my heart like a knife. A brief, involuntary shudders runs through me, but I try to keep smiling.

"Hi, there." I keep my voice even, not allowing Erin to hear even the slightest hint of grief.

"She's moving," Erin says, her voice shaking a bit.

"What does it feel like?" I ask.

She doesn't answer for a few seconds. She is watching me with a faraway look in her eyes. "Like a tiny, fluttering sensation. As if there are butterflies in my stomach."

I press my hands closer. "That means soon enough I'll be able to feel her nudge," I say without thinking, and I catch the despondent look on Erin's face.

With a sound of incoherent distress, Erin tugs me to my feet and flings her arms around me, holding as tightly as she can. "Will you?" She asks, her voice breaking, all her words coming in a rush. "Will you be _here_ to feel her kick?"

For a moment, time stands still, and everything else fades away. The heavy sadness that is pressing down on Erin is suddenly pressing down on me too. I lower my gaze to look into her eyes, glassy and wild, filled with intense fear.

"What if you don't come back? What if they kill you? I can't do this alone, not without you."

"I will," I tell her, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Erin, I will always come back to you."

I can't tell if she believes me or not. The sight of her pain-stricken face pulls tight at my internal strings. She needs to know that I will do everything in my power to come back to her. This is not me giving up. This is me fighting for our future. I reach inside my pocket and pull out the small, battered velvet box. I open it and take the ring from inside. Erin's eyes widen and her mouth falls open.

"This was my mother's and is my promise to you. I know there are no formal marriages anymore, but Erin…." I pause and tip her chin up, making sure her eyes are trained on me. "You are my entire heart. My center. My home…"

Paralyzed momentarily, Erin stands stock-still.

I smile and lean forward, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "What I'm saying is I love you, and I want to spend every day of my life with you. You are everything I've ever wanted, all I ever needed." Without thinking, without hesitating I ask, "Erin, will you marry me?"

She stares at me stunned for what seems like a very long time, before she nods her head. "Yes," she whispers as tears freely begin to fall. "A hundred times yes."

Smiling through my own tears, I place the ring on her finger and gather her in my arms. She clings to me, tightening the space between us. I lower my lips to hers and we kiss urgently, achingly again and again. Pain twists to form an iron band around my chest, so crushing that I gasp against her lips.

"I'm coming back to you," I promise. "I will always come back to you."

x

Erin and I have breakfast on the roof – pancakes and something that resembles scrambled eggs. The morning breeze is chilly, and we huddle close to warm each other, holding hands inside the warmth of my coat pocket. After we finish eating, we find a spot in the sun and we stand in it, letting the subtle heat warm us. I rub Erin's back and shoulders, running my hands up and down her arms, trying to keep her warm.

We don't talk. This is a moment when words are not necessary, it is the physical closeness that says it all. We stay like that until we have to part to run our daily errands. She goes to help in the greenhouse and I go finish packing.

At five o'clock the whole team is at the roll up, except Erin. I glance over my shoulder and the sun is a flat disc hanging in the mid-sky behind a thin screen of clouds. Everything is packed and I'm ready to go.

Hank says a few parting words and the whole unit wishes me luck (no goodbyes).

Kevin pats me on my back and says, "Be safe, man."

"And bring back a souvenir," Adam adds.

Alvin pulls me for a hug and says in a low voice, "We'll look after Erin."

"Thank you," I say and other hands pat my back.

I pull Hank to her side and slip him an envelope. "If I don't make it back, give this to Erin," I tell him.

Hank takes the envelop suspiciously, but tucks in his jacket.

I hold out my hand, and Hank takes it, but then pulls me toward him, and we awkwardly pat each other on the back.

"Make sure to keep us posted," Hanks says.

"I will."

The door to the roll up opens and Erin walks in. She's biting her upper lip as tears stream down her face. I walk over to her and put my arms around her and pull her against me, holding her close, wishing I could take all her anguish away. There is no task more painful and more difficult than that of saying goodbye to someone you love. I'm tearing my heart out and leaving it behind.

I inhale her with every breath. The smells of the greenhouse fill my nostrils. "This is not goodbye," I tell her, kissing her lips.

She nods, twisting the ring on her finger. She presses her face into my chest, so her words are muffled. "Come back to _us_."

"Always."

I press my lips to hers once again, this time gently, giving her the sweetest kiss with a promise in it. She lets out a little sigh and I tuck her against my chest, resting my chin on her head. I can feel her heart fluttering like a bird trying to get out of a cage and know my own must be the same.

I give Erin a final kiss and I leave, saying good bye to the only place that feels like home.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think. Cheers!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Thank you for your reviews! Publishing this chapter now so that I can focus on the next (otherwise I'll keep tweaking it FOREVER).**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Erin's POV**

 _No news is good news_.

There has been no communiqué from Jay, no hint that he made it to the capital. He hasn't reached out to any of Hanks contacts and Mouse hasn't gotten any wind of his whereabouts either. It's like Jay turned into a ghost. But Hank is optimistic. He thinks this is a good sign, especially in a situation like this. It means Jay is laying low, being smart, staying out of sight.

But it's been nearly three weeks, though it seems a lot longer than that, and it's agonizing having to wait day in and day out, with zero news. I can't sleep. I wear Jay's shirts to feel close to him but it just doesn't have his body warmth. I miss him terribly, and I don't know if this ache will ever subside. I never thought it was possible to love someone as much as I love him.

To cope with his absence, I've been spending most of my free time at the greenhouse. It's very peaceful and the work keeps me busy. The growing babe is my belly is also a nice distraction. She has become increasingly active, and the small flutters of the first movements have developed into definite small pokes and proddings, and in a way, I'm alone and not alone.

I'm working contentedly through the morning, planting garlic, pinching back dead herbs, and digging out weeds. The earth is so cold and loose that it runs through my fingers like brown water. It is perfect for raising beans, corn, tomatoes, and squash. I'm so absorbed in my work that it takes me a minute to notice Burgess standing by the entrance. Her face is drawn, pale. She looks worried.

"Everything okay Burgess?" I ask.

"I don't know," she says. "Hank asked me to come get you."

Something cold coils itself tight around my stomach. The baby shifts. "Did he say why?"

Burgess shakes her head. "But I, um, I think it's about Jay."

I rise quickly and dust my pants before vanishing through the doors. By the time I walk into the pen I'm out of breath. My throat feels so tight, with sharp burning pain. Everyone stops what they are doing and it gets horribly quiet. Their faces are blank and ghostlike. I look at Hank and his expression is hard, but there is a faint quiver of his mouth, only one as familiar with him as I am would have noticed.

"What happened? Did we hear back from Jay? Did you find him?"

Hank's customary impenetrable expression deserts him. He lets out his breath in a long sigh and tells me the bad news, as briefly as he can: Jay has been captured by the Aedes. The flood of shock, grief, fear, and shattered hope washes over me, swapping me utterly. I'm dimly conscious of Hank's hand timidly patting my shoulder and his voice offering me comfort, though I don't hear it.

It takes a few minutes before I am able to pull myself together, though I feel like I am having a panic attack. I'm almost afraid to ask, but I have to know. "I-Is he okay?"

Hank and Alvin exchange looks.

I turn to Mouse, he looks grief-stricken. "I want to see him." Mouse frowns and turns to Hank, as if looking for permission and this irritates me. "Show it to me," I demand, turning his computer screen towards me. "I know you can see him on the Aedes security feed. That _is_ how you found him, right?"

"Erin—" I feel a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it away.

"No. I want to see him," I demand. "Mouse put Jay on the screen."

Pausing again, Mouse looks to Hank, who nods imperceptibly. With a few clicks the live feed of Jay shows up on the screen. He is limp and unconscious, hands tied above his head, a pool of blood spreading out beneath his feet. His torso is naked and torn, littered with black and blue marks. His face is dead-white, almost bluish - the agony that is obviously spreading around his body is plastered over his face.

"No, no, no, no, noooo!"

My heart stops and I can't feel my body at all. _This can't be happening._ I bite my lip suppressing an urge toward hysteria. I gasp out loud and clamp a hand over my mouth. Tears spring to my eyes and deluge down my face. My body shakes with spasms and my legs unbuckle until I collapse to my knees.

 _God no_! I scream, but my voice is locked in my throat and no sounds come out, instead it's volume fills my brain and explodes inside my mind.

"Erin…." I hear my name.

 _No, no, no, no,_ I plea, shaking my head, holding my words back with my hand. It's like I can feel _him_ – feel his pain, hear the raggedness of his breathing.

"Erin..."

Suddenly my arms are being lifted and my feet stumble blindly as I half-fall, half-sit onto a chair. I close my eyes and take some deep breaths. The baby definitely notices my restlessness and squirms and kicks and stretches, so much so that it is putting pressure on my back. I rubbed my belly, urging the kid to calm down.

"Here, drink some water," Kevin says.

I open my eyes as he passes me a cup. My fingers are trembling and the clattering sound of my ring against the cup is cacophony to my ears.

"Get Dr. Manning," I hear Hank call.

"No, no," I shake my head. I can see worried faces staring at me. "I-I'm okay. I, um, I want to know… What are they doing to him? How did they find him?" I try to keep my voice calm, despite the cyclone ripping me apart from the inside out.

"We don't know," I hear Hank's voice, in deadly earnest now, speaking softly. "We are still trying to piece things together."

"So, what's the plan?" I ask, feeling slightly ill, but I try to focus my mind on addressing the problem. "What do we do now?"

I look to Hank and the rest of the team. They remain in that god-awful silence again. "C'mon, how do we get Jay out?" I ask, a razor edge in my voice. My intensity causes Ruzek to take a step back. His eyes dart around the room, refusing to meet mine.

"What? We're just going to let him rot in there? They will kill him." I cry, every word coming out in a struggle. "Look at him!" I'm trembling with rage now.

"Erin," Hank grabs me by both shoulders, his voice gentler. "If we go after him, we risk them finding out about you. And if they find out about you, then we put everyone here in danger."

"Hank," the tears are now rushing down my cheeks. "We can't just leave him there. We have to do something," I plea.

"We will. But we have to be smart about it. We can't go about this hot headed."

I take a moment to catch my breath. "Look at what they doing to him, Hank."

Hank pauses, his face serious, eyes on the screen. He seems to have aged ten years.

"They are trying to break him," Mouse chimes in. "That's what they do. They know Jay found sanctuary somewhere, and they want to know where."

I take a deep breath, but my throat tightens as I do so, releasing an involuntary sob. "You know Jay is not going to break. He will die before he gives up any information. We have to get him out before they kill him," I say. The baby inside of me feels my stress and kicks hard. My hand goes to stroke my belly, soothing us both.

"Erin, we are on it," Hank says. "But we need plan. A solid plan."

"Jay is one of us," Alvin adds reassuringly. "We're not leaving him behind."

Out of the corner of my eye I see Burgess return, this time with Natalie in tow. In a minute Nat is listening to my heartbeat, taking my pulse, and checking my blood pressure. She is attempting to smile, but her eyes project concern. She pulls out the handheld fetal monitor and her hand ventures under my shirt.

The sound of the baby's heartbeat, that hollow drum-like _swoosh, swoosh, swoosh_ , fills the pen. Despite the dismal atmosphere, everyone has a small smile pulling at the corners of their lips. I look at Burgess and there's a curious look of shock that passes across her features. She gapes at me with wide eyes. I realize she doesn't know.

"I'm pregnant," I tell her. My trembling hands moving atop the bump beneath my shirt.

Her face softens. She blinks quickly a few times, clearing her eyes of any moisture. "T-that's, um, a-amazing," she says. Then I see Adam moving towards her, and his tenderness makes me feel a sudden pang.

"The baby's heartrate looks good. But your blood pressure is a little high," Natalie says, shifting her weight on the rolling chair. "Maybe take the rest of the afternoon off," she suggests. "Also, let's table the shop-talk for now," she says and looks around for confirmation from the guys. Everyone nods.

"We'll get him back," Hank reassures me, laying a comforting hand on my shoulder.

I nod, wanting to believe him. Wanting to believe in something.

x

Everywhere I look I see the empty spaces Jay's left behind.

I can't tell how much time has passed. A few days, a week, maybe two? They say it is better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all, but his pain in my chest is too much for me. I feel as though there is a gigantic hole in my heart.

I spend most of the time asleep. Whether this is a necessary part of coping with what's happening, or a stubborn retreat from reality, I don't know, but I wake only to eat, then retreat back at once into a stupor of oblivion. Every so often Natalie comes to the room, checks on me, tells me things I don't remember, then leaves.

The only thing keeping me going is the small kicks and nudges from inside my belly. Most days, I lie in my bed waiting to see movement, and when my abdomen starts rolling, I watch, enthralled by the kicks and jabs, the tumbling. It is only then that my grief parts long enough for me to feel something close to happiness.

I'm lying in bed one day when there's a soft knock on my door. Thinking it's probably Natalie or Hank, I say, "Come in."

To my surprise, Kim pops her head inside the room. "Hey."

"Hey Kim," I say.

She lingers by the door, hesitant.

"What's up?" I ask.

She takes a few tentative steps inside. "I was thinking maybe you want to come with me to the greenhouse. I've been detailed there this week and I don't know the first thing about horticulture."

I narrow my eyes. Kim is an open book. "Did Hank send you?"

She shakes her head. "No. I just really suck at gardening."

I stare at her, and she is not lying, I realize, not in the least. I weigh out my options and realize that I have two choices: stay in and sulk, or accept the distraction.

"Okay," I agree, pushing the blankets aside. I can use the distraction.

We walk in silence to the greenhouse and once there, I go about teaching her the basics. Pulling weeds, watering the basins, checking the humidity, etc… Suddenly the sunlight hits the ring on my finger. The light projects through the dozens of facets of the diamond and paints the nearest wall with rainbow-colored dots. I turn the ring slowly and dots fly across the space in a circle, as if projected by a spinning mirror ball.

"That's a very pretty ring," she notes. "Is that like an engagement ring?"

I nod and don't dare to look up, for fear my face will give away my grief.

"I-I'm sorry. I d-didn't mean too…. I know this is really hard and…. I can't imagine..."

I wave my hand dismissively and try to smile. "It's okay. I'm good." I say. But I need to change the subject before we delve into areas better left in the darker corners of my mind. "So you and Adam, uh?" Kim's cheeks immediately flush red. "I think you guys make a cute couple."

She makes a face, waves a hand. "It's nothing, yet. We are taking things slow."

I smile. I can see that she really likes him. "It's nice to have someone in your corner. You should tell him how you feel."

Kim lowers her eyes, then looks up hesitant and unsure. "What if he doesn't feel the same way?"

I shrug. "That's the risk you have to take," I say gently. "And if he doesn't feel the same way, isn't it better to know than to stay in agony of what-if?"

She nods. "Is that what you did?"

"Kind of. We knew we liked each other from the get-go. But Jay was _very_ hesitant about us being together…" I continue to tell her our story and I feel strangely warm. My heart beats quickly and my palms get a little sweaty just thinking about Jay. I really miss him. "But in the end we agreed to keep things between us a secret, but we did a rubbish job at that," I say and my hand goes to massage the spot where the little one keeps poking me.

"You okay?"

"Oh yeah. Baby's kicking." I say, exhaling slowly.

She looks at me spellbound. "Would it be weird if I ask you to feel it?"

"Not at all," I say. "Give me your hand."

Kim extends her hand and I press it against my belly. The seconds pass slowly, at last, there is a dull thump. The fascination and sense of reverence is evident on her face.

"I'm guessing you felt that?" I ask.

"Yeah." She blinks. "There really is a person in there," she says. "It's kind of hard to believe. It's…It's so much!"

"It's everything," I reply, hoping my voice doesn't sound shaky as I feel. "You feel fuller than you've ever felt in your entire life. Full in a way that you never imagine possible, like everything - the earth, the sky, the stars, everything – is inside of you."

Kim keeps her hand on my belly, and the little universe inside of me kicks again.

"You know, Intelligence is working really hard to bring Jay back," she says, her expression full of warmth and comfort. "I've barely seem Adam this week. I only hear fragments of their conversations, but I think they are close to finding a way inside."

I nod. I'm not allowed back in the pen. From what I've gathered, the Aedes is still trying to get information out of Jay, but the fact that the Refuge is still standing means they haven't succeeded yet. Jay is still holding strong. But for how long?

"I think I need to stretch," I tell Burgess. I get up and she makes to follow me, but I wave my hand dismissively. "I'm just going for a walk. You stay and finish. I will be right back."

Kim nods, and I venture off. I know the unit is busy at this time, so I sneak into the equipment room where I find Mouse absorbed on wiring some processing unit.

"Hey Mouse," I say.

Mouse jumps. The metal tool he'd been holding falls from his grip and clangs to the floor. "Geez Erin, you scared me."

"I didn't mean to. I'm sorry," I apologize.

Mouse leans down and picks up the metal object. I take a seat next to him and he surveys me through narrow eyes as if knowing what I'm about to ask.

"Mouse—"

"—Erin, you know I can't. Hank will have my head."

"I just want to see him." I smile, thinking that it will help if I display my dimples. "H-Have you been watching him lately?"

Mouse nods, sadness flickering across his face. I notice his left knee is bobbing up and down nervously as his eyes search for something to fix his gaze on.

I gently put my hand on his forearm. "Please? I just want to see him."

Mouse looks me over and I try to appear indifferent and in control of my emotions. He releases a ragged breath and goes to work on the computer. In minutes he scans through the Aedes security footage, finding Jay. He puts the live feed on the screen and I bite my lip to keep myself from collapsing once again.

Jay is in a room, needle in arm, tube going to a collection bag. He looks crushed. Tired, pale—there are dark circles around his eyes, his left one is closed and swollen. Cuts, bruises, blood. Lots of blood. Caked-on. The side of his face is wrecked and deep purple. My heart aches desperately. The baby kicks hard. Really hard.

Not trusting either my face or voice, I turn away.

"Erin…? Hey, you okay?" Mouse tries to remain calm as he speaks. However, I can hear the concern in his voice.

"I'm, um, I'm fine," I tell him. My heart is thumping hard against my chest. I let out a shaky breath. Perhaps I should've stayed in my state of oblivion. "They, um, are still trying to break him, uh?"

Mouse nods. "They won't give up easily. My guess is that they heard rumors about the Refuge and they feel threatened."

I watch the man I love on the screen for another minute, and that's when I see it. Jay is tapping his index finger rhythmically on his knee. One long tap, then a short one, followed by three long taps, then short, long, short, short, long.

"Mouse, do you see that?" I point at the screen. Mouse narrows his eyes, then they suddenly widen. He quickly rummages through the desk and finds a piece of paper.

"Why didn't I see this before," Mouse murmurs to himself as I watch him jot down the letters: N, O, R, A, N, O, R, A.

He scratches his head confused, looking down at the paper. "Anor? Oran? Nora? No, that can't be right." Mouse says fixing his eye back on the screen.

Tears fill my eyes from holding back my voice that wants to cry out. "It's right," I say and my voice breaks. "It's our daughter's name, _Nora._ He is repeating our daughter's name." My chest aches with longing. The tears I'd been holding back start rolling down my cheek freely, I don't think I can stop. "Mouse, can you blink the lights?"

"I-I think I can."

Mouse scrambles around and gets busy on the computer, pulling up a second screen. After a moment, he looks expectantly at me. "What should we say?"

"Tell him; _we see you_."

x

After figuring out we could communicate with Jay, the team is able to get little bits and pieces of information from him. Everyday a different phrase.

 _I am okay._

 _Bunny gone._

 _Stay put._

 _Wait for Nora._

With the immediate threat of Bunny somewhat diminished, Hank decides to table all rescue missions, despite my fervent objections, until after the baby is born. But as the days turn into weeks, Jay's condition worsens. He is barely hanging on. Most days can hardly keep himself conscious long enough to communicate with us. It seems like the Aedes no longer cares if he lives or dies, as long as they extract the information they so desperately want from him. Not only are they torturing him for information, they are also bleeding him dry.

"There's gotta be a way to get him out," I say, pacing impatiently at the front of the pen. I feel sick to my stomach and know I'm obviously not thinking straight anymore, but I don't care. "A passage way we overlooked, another tunnel system we missed. Anything!"

"We can't be seen," Antonio says. "If we get caught and that alarm sounds…." He pauses, like he doesn't want to say the next words. "…Jay will be as good as dead."

"Mouse can disable the alarm," I counter. "We have access to their security grid." I take a deep breath. Every word I say has to be carefully considered. My desperation needs to be under control so as not to be too rash. "Right, Mouse? You can disable the alarm?"

"Yes and no. I can shut the alarm off, but when the fail system kicks in - which it will - I won't be able to do much without drawing attention to the fact that _someone_ is hacked into their system."

"There's gotta be another way," I insist, trying to remain optimistic, but with each passing minute the thought of Jay returning dims. I'm just damned afraid I'm going to lose him.

"I think I got it," Adam says. "If Mouse disables their security temporarily on the southeastern entrance we can access Jay's containment cell through the old HVAC pipes."

"And how are we supposed to get through the pipes?" Kevin asks. "None of us can't fit. Erin was the only one that could squeeze through."

The team scratches their head, frowning, thinking. The atmosphere is charged; everyone feels the weight of the Jay's life on their shoulders.

Then a small, hesitant voice chimes in. "I-I can fit."

Everyone turns their heads to find Burgess, standing at the top of the stairs. "I can fit through the pipes," she repeats.

"No," Adam says shaking his head. "It's not safe. We'll find another way inside."

Kim ignores his objection. "I can go through the pipes and Mouse can give me access down this hallway to this loading dock over here," Kim says, walking to the board and pointing to a section on the blueprint. "It's a straight exit."

Hank, whose been silent this whole time, takes a few steps towards Kim. His expression is one of pleasant surprise "You want to do this?"

"Kim, please," Adam protests. "You remember what happened to Erin, right? Jay won't be in any condition to help you if—"

"—I can do this," she cuts in. "I will get Jay and you guys can meet us at the loading dock. We have to try. And you guys will have my back, right?"

The team nods.

"This is crazy!" Adam throws up his hands and releases a frustrated sigh.

"The earlier we do it the better. I don't think Jay will last much longer," Mouse notes. "At the rate they're collecting his blood, he has another day or two before he goes into full hypovolemic shock."

Hank looks Kim up and down. "You're sure about this?

"Yes," Kim says.

Hank nods. "Alright. Gear up, kid. We leave tonight."

Kim and I exchange looks. "Thank you," I mouth the words.

She nods her head dismissively. "We're going to get him back."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Let me know what'd you think. Cheers!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hello everyone! Sorry for the wait. I was away last week and didn't have a lot of service where I was. But I'm back and here is the next chapter. Cheers!**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

 **ps. For those of you asking, Erin is about 6 months right now (last ch. she was ~5 months). Jay's been captive for a little over a month.**

* * *

 **Jay's POV.**

I dream of her laughter and the exasperated - yet amused - way she says my name when I do something ridiculous. I dream of sunlight turning her hair into molten gold and bringing out the glints of yellow in her eyes. Sweetest of all, I dream of her arms around me, her lips pressed to mine and the way they fill my body with desire and my heart with more love than I'd ever thought it capable of holding.

Meeting Erin grounded me and brought me back to myself in a way I hadn't known was possible. My life had little meaning, and my purpose was obscure. But now everything makes sense. I can weather the storms in this world, the craziness of in my life. All can be endured when Erin is by my side.

Except she isn't here.

I open my eyes and try to make sense of my surroundings. The room is tilting, and small flashing lights keep coming before my eyes. My head throbs. Everything feels heavy and chaotic. I can't tell if it's day or night, or for how long I've been imprisoned here. My life is blurred together in one continuous miserable existence.

There is a sharp pain in my right side, nearer to the sacrum; it is a dull heavy ache, a pulling sensation. I try to lean on one side but it does little to ease my discomfort.

There is a rustle near my ear, and when I turn my head I see Denny Woods, Aedes director, sitting next to me.

"He's alive," Woods says in a cool, detached voice. "Water?"

Before I can answer, the edge of a cup presses against my mouth, and I grunt as it meets my blistered lips. It makes me dizzy for a moment, and I miss what he is says.

His hand presses briefly against my forehead and drops away without comment. But his face twitches in a small grimace of distaste, then settles back into impassivity. I am burning, I can feel the flames behind my eyes when I close them. My lips are cracked and sore, my throat feels as if it's been skinned.

"You hear me? Your body is slowly deteriorating. How much longer do you think it can take?"

"Just go away," I mumble. My mind clears up a bit, and my ability to reason is coming back, slowly.

"You know I can't do that." Mildly annoyed, Woods heaves a heavy sigh as he folds his arms over his chest. "Not until you tell me where is Hank Voight?"

I squint up at him, the fever distorting my vision. "For the millionth time, I don't know anyone named Hank Voight."

He releases a low grunt of irritation. "Ms. Fletcher seems to think you do. She also said you were hanging out with her daughter, Erin."

The thought of Erin causes a wave of terrible longing. God, to have her here, to cradle my throbbing head on her lap. "You believe her? She's a junkie looking to score."

Woods looks away, rubbing his chin in a distracted sort of way. He is mumbling under his breath, and I can't make out the words; I don't care in any case. Then he pulls himself together and turns back to me. "I want to help you. I don't want to keep doing this." His voice prodding and impatient. "Just tell me where you've been and this can all be over."

"I don't know what to tell you that I haven't already."

He shakes his head in sheer disappointment. "You know, Jay, no one cares if you live or die anymore. You've proven to be more trouble than you are worth. If it wasn't for me, you'd be six feet under by now. But I went to bat for you and the only reason you're still breathing is because of me. So, the least you can do is tell me what I want to know."

"Look man, I don't know anything. So you either put that tube in my arm or leave, okay?"

I close my eyes again and feel the not-so-gentle prick in my arm. Suddenly, everything slows, all the near noises fade, and every sensation seems to blend into another. My thoughts become detached, but I feel strangely calm. Regardless of what happens to me, I know Erin and the baby will be safe. Woods' desperation is proof that Bunny is keeping her promise.

x

I found Bunny the first day I got into the city, exactly where Hank said she would be. Bunny stared at me, eyes widened in stunned shock, like she was seeing a ghost. She refused to talk to me, but set up a time and a place for us to meet. I knew not to trust her, and knew I would most likely be walking into a trap, but I didn't have a choice. I had to make sure Erin would be safe.

I met her in a bar, where the windows were glassless and barred with steel, and the strong smell of cigarette smoke, grease, and sweat was overwhelming. Bunny was sitting by herself, nursing a colorless drink in one hand and holding one stubby cigarette in the other. She looked nervous, her hands were shaking badly, easy to tell she would need a fix soon.

"Didn't think you'd show up," she said curtly, taking a sip from her glass. "What do you want from me?"

I took a seat across from her. "I want to talk about the reason you're in the city. I want to know what have you told _them_?"

" _Them_ who?"

"You know exactly who I'm talking about."

Bunny scoffed and raised a hand dismissively. "I have no idea who you're talking about."

I thumped the counter with my fist. A few eyes turned in our direction. "I know _they_ came asking about me, and I know _they_ are probably outside waiting to take me. So you can table the act. I just want to know what you've told _them_."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Bunny said again like it was her mantra.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I felt my patience wearing thin. I lowered my voice and said, "Look, Erin is in great danger and I want to protect her, but for me to do that I need you to tell me _exactly_ what you told them."

She took a deep breath, her eyes gazing past me, through the window, as though she was looking for someone. "Why would Erin be in danger? She's still under Hank's watch, isn't she?" She whispered and took a deep drag from her cigarette.

"Circumstances have changed, and I rather not get into it right now," I said curtly. "I just need to know what you've told them?"

Bunny paused for a moment, considering her words. "I-I told _them_ I saw you with Erin. That's it."

"That's it?" I prodded.

She shifted uncomfortably. "Yes."

I took a deep breath and looked at her earnestly, searching her eyes for any hint that she was lying. "Did you tell them about the baby?"

"No." She shakes her head. "They showed me a paper with your face and asked if I had seen you. I-I remembered you from _that night_. So I told them that just that."

"Bunny, they can't know about the baby."

She looked at me confused. "Why would they care about Erin or the baby? They want you. They said you were needed at the capital. Apparently you're a man of exceptional talent." Bunny raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Does Erin know you're a big shot in the city?"

My gut reacted to this. It sank, hit bottom and I felt sick. I consider omitting the truth, but she needs to know the gravity of the situation. "Bunny, I'm a type O donor. They want me for my blood. If they know Erin is pregnant with my child, they will kill her and the baby," I told her without mincing my words. "I'm here because I want to make sure your daughter and your _granddaughter_ are safe."

"You're a type O donor?" Bunny was frozen, her face ghostly pale, her mouth hanging open in shock. "I'm going to have a g-granddaughter?"

"You can't tell them about her."

Bunny's eyes glazed and her lower lip trembled. She made a sound, a sigh or a sob, and then her shoulders drooped in surrender. "Are Erin and the baby okay?"

"They will be as long as you keep your mouth shut."

At that moment she looked up, and her expression was desolate. "They are here for you," she whispered. "You have to run. GET OUT OF HERE. YOU HAVE TO GO!"

"Don't tell them about Erin," I repeated.

"I won't. But you have to go," she said urgently, her eyes sobering. "GET OUT OF HERE! RUN!"

x

I feel my head snap to the side; someone hit me but the fog takes me again. My head snaps to the other side. I take a deep sharp intake of air, trying to open my eyes.

"Wake up, damn you!" Woods punches me in the chin. That pulls me out of my daze. His head snaps on his neck and he shakes me impatiently. "Wake up!'

I open my eyes wearily. "What?"

"This is your last chance," he warns. Woods sounds impatient, to say the least. "Barbara Fletcher said Hank Voight sent you to find her daughter."

Apparently we're picking up our conversation where we left off. "I already told you. I don't know anyone named Hank, and I never met Ms. Fletcher's daughter. Fletcher is a druggie, who used you to get her next fix."

" _That_ druggie got us to you, didn't she?"

"I guess she did. But I still don't know any Hank."

A loud sigh reverberates throughout the room as Woods backtracks. "Okay. You don't know a Hank Voight. So tell me, where have you been all this time, uh? When we picked your ass up, you were clean, hydrated, and there was still meat on you bones."

"I drifted from place to place."

I look at Woods and his face grows quite red as he raises his brows irritated. His mouth draws down in a thin angry line and his eyes gleam with temper. "Look, if you serve him up, I promise you that we'll let you go."

I shake my head. "For the last time. I don't know anything. And even if I did, why would I help you? Because you're keeping me alive? I don't want this miserable existence. Kill me already!"

Woods looks at me stunned.

"Should I insert the second line in my arm, or are you going to continue to question me in circles instead? I rather prefer the line."

"For fuck's sake!" He spits his words between clenched teeth. Losing his temper entirely, he kicks me, and I grunt at the sudden impact. And as quickly as he kicked me, he strikes me again, and then again. I can't block the blows, I can't stop them, I can't even see them coming. Something gives in my chest and I feel my ribs shatter further.

When Woods is done, he is angrier than when he started. He sets up a second line in my arm and the red liquid flows out of me.

"It doesn't have to be like this. I can give you anything you want." He kneels to my level. "This is your last chance. Name your price."

"Fuck off, Woods," I splutter.

He punches me in the stomach and then in my mouth. One punch after another lands on my face and then to my sore ribs and back to my face. My head rocks back, and I taste blood in my mouth. My body trembles from the pain as he punches me over and over. At some point he stops, exhausted, and storms out.

My entire body is on fire, my aches throbbing in time with my heartbeat. I sigh and attempt to look up at the camera. I know they are watching me. I tap my fingers on my thigh, _wait for Nora._ It's the only thing I tell them nowadays.

I'm having a hard time breathing. I'm fighting to stay conscious, but eyesight dims, beckoning me to sweet relief. I force my eyes open, pushing against the pain. I try to focus my eyes, but all I can see is a fuzzy image of Erin's face, her hazel eyes, her golden hair.

Thinking about her now brings tears to my eyes. I miss her so fucking much, and it hurts more than the physical pain I'm feeling right now.

I know I'm going to die, if not today, perhaps tomorrow. But I know I don't have much time. I feel myself getting weaker and weaker, as life literally drains out of my body. I slowly succumb to the relief of the growing darkness, my pain easing as the throbbing lessens in repose to my slowing heartbeat. I can feel the blackness engulfing me, filling my lungs, my eyes, my head; the darkness pulling me down… into nothingness.

x

I become aware of pain. My head hurts - correction, my whole body hurts - but I can feel the bindings on my wrists and ankles loosening. When I open my eyes all I can see is a white, blinding light. I squint, trying to see something, anything, but there is nothing.

"Jay, wake up!" I hear a quiet voice.

I hear footsteps and then a shadow passes in front of the blinding light. The face that comes into view is familiar, a face I've seen before.

"God, you're burning up. Jay, can you hear me?" The voice asks.

Waking up from my daze, I squint up and find Kim Burgess snapping her fingers in front of my face. Am I dreaming.? What is she doing here? I try to take a breath but am unable to get enough air to satisfy my starving lungs. I try to clear my throat, but can't. Finding a little bit of strength, I raise my head and say, "Whea'd c-me fr-m? Whaa you do-ng heaa?" I ask. The words are heavy and jumbled.

"Getting you out," she says. "Can you stand?"

I shake my head. "I don't…. think so…?"

She snakes my arm over her shoulder and pulls me to my feet. Being suddenly vertical makes my head swim, my sight fades; my legs wobble unsteadily underneath me as I fight the overpowering dizziness. I feel pain like a knife piercing my spine. Every muscle in my body is on fire. I groan.

"Let's try to take a few steps," she says and pulls me tight against her, but I feel body sagging, tipping, then falling onto the floor with an audible "plop." I look up at her and she starts scrambling for something inside her pack. The soft playful happiness she usually carries around is missing.

"Burgess, I…I…can't… It's not…. going to… work," I tell her. "Go before...they find...you."

I see her pulling a syringe from her back. "I'm not giving up. _You_ are not giving up," she says.

I watch her pull a blue vial out of her pocket, stick the needle in and pull back and flick the syringe. "This might hurt just a little," she says and quickly, deftly, jabs the needle on my thigh. Immediately I feel my heart bounce around in my chest, trying to get out, my lungs burning.

Burgess discards the needle and pulls me upright again. Surprisingly the fog in my brain clears for a second and I stand firmly on my feet.

"What'd you give me?" I ask.

"An epinephrine kick. It won't last long, so we have to go," she says adjusting my dead weight against her. "Here, can you hold this?" She says and places a gun in my hand.

I nod.

"Use it only if it's absolutely necessary. We don't want to draw attention."

I nod again. "Got it."

"Mouse, we're ready," she says and the door unlocks. Together, we wander down the hall, my feet dragging and Kim practically pulling me along. Her tight grip on me is the only thing keeping me upright right now.

The hall is empty and open. Black dots dance before my eyes, the edges of my vision blurred. Suddenly we hear footsteps coming down the hall some distance away. We stop and listen. They're coming closer, soft short steps. We look behind but we see no one. The footsteps are coming from some other angle; one we can't see. So probably whoever is coming can't see us either and is headed in our direction by no more than coincidence.

We reach the end of the hall and Kim whispers, "Mouse get this hall door open. Now, Mouse!"

The door opens and there's a small pause, before we begin moving again. I'm panting trying to get oxygen into my lungs. The pain continues to rip through my spine. I tense and grit my teeth. I fight, struggling against the increasing pressure as my body begins to grow heavier.

"Jay, keep those legs moving. We're almost there," Burgess says encouragingly. "Erin is counting on you."

"Erin…" I let myself say her name for the first time in longer than I can remember. "How's…she?" I ask panting. "Tell her...I love her, okay?"

Burgess smiles. "She's good. But you'll tell her yourself soon enough."

The thought of seeing Erin sends a warm and happy flush through my body. I had accepted that I wasn't going to see her again. I had locked my feelings away and deprived myself from them. But the possibility has everything rushing back and I summon up what little strength I have to keep my legs moving.

"The baby?" I ask.

"Nora? Growing…. Kicking," she says, sounding a bit out of breath herself. "There isn't a moment in the day when she isn't moving."

I smile and my heart lightens at the thought.

"Mouse, the dock door. Open it."

The door clicks open and Burgess hauls me inside. She lets me plop onto the floor, and my legs and lungs are thankful for the momentary break. Burgess bends forward to rest her hands on her knees, panting and grimacing, out of breath from lugging me down the hallway. The cold air coming through the various openings in the dock area wakes me up. However, my next shudder has nothing to do with cold. There are footsteps behind us. I stiffen.

"Don't worry," Kim whispers to me, taking her jacket off and wrapping it around me. "It's the guys coming for us."

Moments later Ruzek and Atwater come into view, and I've never been happier to see their faces. "How you holding up, buddy?" Ruzek asks.

"I-" I try to speak but can't, my mouth is cotton and my vision starts to blur again, so I try for a smile, but it must have looked more like a grimace.

"That bad, huh? Don't worry. We're getting you out. Rhodes is waiting in the Van and he's going to fix you right up."

Then I am being swiftly picked up and carried out. My ears are ringing and my chest is screaming, but I feel the fresh, cold air hit my face and when I look up I see the starry sky above me.

"Faster. We've got to get him on an IV. He is burning up." I hear Burgess say.

Minutes later (or so it seems—but it could have been hours), I hear yelling for us. I feel the vibrations in Kev's chest as he yells back. Everything slows further down, my whole body feels light, almost sickly, dizzy. Swirling images. Can't quite make them out. Coming towards me, woven around each other. Long streaks of color touching me. No, going around me. Touching my face, my chest. I feel like I'm sinking, dropping down into the abyss, the pressure increasing on my body.

"Jay, can you hear me?" I hear a voice. I know that voice.

"The epinephrine is wearing out." Another voice.

"Okay, let's get the morphine drip started."

I hear a car engine turn on.

"Hang on, Jay."

I'm trying, but a soft blackness begins to move inwards on the light that is my mind. Growing smaller and smaller as the darkness completes its journey. I relent and my body appears detached, relaxed. A sense of peace begins to flow out from me. From my heart to my shoulders and down through my stomach. I cannot attempt to intervene. I feel such absolute peace.

I'm going home.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Your input/ideas/Constructive criticism is always welcomed.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Thank you so much for your reviews! The end of the semester is killing me and I didn't have a chance to reply to them, but I will try this time around.**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing**

* * *

 **Erin's POV**

I wait for nearly five hours, ears trained to the radio, before I hear the words, "Package on route," disrupt the white noise. Happiness draws me inward and fills me completely. It seems as though I cannot breathe, my knees weaken, and my heart flutters uncontrollably. My vision fills with happy tears and my ears are ringing. This is too much. This is all too good. I laugh, undone with emotion. Jay is coming home.

I grab the radio and say, "I-Is t-the package badly d-damaged?"

There is silence on the other side, then the confirmation comes through, "Yes."

I feel a clutch of panic in my stomach. More tears well up and overflow; I feel them, full around, rolling down my cheeks. I press my lips tightly together to contain a sob. After a moment, I master my feelings enough to say, "Is it reparable?"

Another moment of silence. "Rhodes's on it."

I wait for them to return at the roll-up, pacing, agonizing about the situation. My heart is beating anxiously and my whole body is trembling. The baby is active and I feel pain in my back, neck, legs, and pretty much everywhere else. Natalie and two infirmary nurses are also here; ready to assist Rhodes when they arrive.

When the convoy finally pulls up, I almost can't contain myself. My heart squeezes like a fist, then goes on beating in a heavy, uncomfortable manner.

The Van backs into the loading dock and when the door opens I see Rhodes doing vigorous chest compressions, pounding and pushing Jay's chest in a desperate attempt to bring him back to life. _Whish, Whish. Whish._ His body jerks with each push like limp and boneless life-size rag doll. Every chest compression he executes sends more of what little blood remains in Jay's body and it puddles around him.

I push my way towards Jay, but a pair of hand holds me back. "Let go of me!" I struggle to free myself, but the grip around me is like bands of steel.

"Erin! You gotta let them work." It's Hank's voice I hear near my ear. "You can't be in the way."

"No, Jay needs to know I'm here." I kick and dig my fingernails deep into his arms, but he's not budging and I'm not strong enough to get away.

"You need to let them work."

"Noooo, let me go!" I keep screaming an incoherent streams of expletives - no small store - but eventually I feel my strength waning.

In seconds I watch Rhodes give orders, and the infirmary staff falls into a well-choreographed routine, filling syringes, moving IV pole, oxygen, and, hooking Jay to a monitor – and there, the black screen of the cardiac input shows the telltale blue line - flat, ugly.

"He's in full arrest," someone shouts.

Natalie immediately jumps in and begins placing gel on the defibrillator pads in preparation. "Charging two hundred." A few seconds later, the machine beeps. "Everyone clear!" She shouts.

Everyone stands back, hands in the air, and the machine discharges. Jay's body makes a disturbing jerk with the shock and all eyes fall on the monitor. The flat line begins to flutter.

"His heart is in v-fib."

Not waiting, Natalie applies more gel and prepares for a second shock. "Charging three hundred," she announces with a certain calmness that belied the increasing urgency of the situation. The machine beeps. "All clear!"

Jay's body jerks forcefully again. There is no change. I feel like someone is cracking open my ribcage and ripping out my heart.

"Push one milligram of Epi," Rhodes instructs, wiping his eyes to remove sweat.

I stand there watching with a helpless, hopeless feeling heavy as stone in my chest. I am too paralyzed to move. I feel powerlessness. Waves of pain runs through me, each worse than the one before.

"Stop compressions and give three hundred milligrams of amiodarone," Natalie directs and looks to Rhodes. He nods imperceptibly. "Charging three sixty." The machine beeps. "Clear," Natalie shouts. This time, following the electrical discharge, the fluttering line on the monitor gains distinctive, though small, irregular zigzags.

"We've got a pulse!" One of the nurses shouts.

I feel an odd sensation, like relief mixed with dread. I know he is not out of the woods yet.

They push him up on his side with a great deal of effort and Jay makes a gurgling noise. Jay draws in wheezing breaths of air, as if someone is capping and uncapping a boiling kettle.

"We have to intubate him," Rhodes says and goes to work on inserting a tube down Jay's throat, but he seems to be struggling. "His wind pipe is swollen," Rhodes says frustrated.

"Let me." Natalie takes over and quickly flattens herself, getting face to face with Jay. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon…..I see cords," she says under her breath. Slowly and deftly, she inserts the tube. "I'm in," she says. They tape the tube around his mouth and one of the nurses begins squeezing an air bag, forcing air into Jay's lungs.

"Okay, let's take him up," Rhodes says. "His sternum is crushed and his lung is most definitely punctured. He won't last much longer unless the blood is released from his chest. Turn him up onto his side again before he drowns in his own blood!"

On the count of three, they turn and lift Jay. From this angle I can see all the angry bruises, red, green, and black, radiating in irregular circles on his side. The extent of every contusion is horrific. I suddenly feel like I was the one beaten.

The whishing sound of the bag-valve mask continues as I watch them hurry Jay away.

My grief spirals downward into desperation. I feel helpless and hopeless. The baby is kicking hard and painfully in my ribs. My vision blurs; my heart starts to rattle against my ribs. I want to scream at the unfairness of it all. I am overwhelmed by a sadness so powerful I could explode, or erupt into the kind of tears that never stop coming.

In that moment, I feel Hank taking my hand in his, brining me back from the brink.

My vision is blurry, but I can see Burgees is in my line of sight. "Thank you," I mouth wordlessly to her, and feel the others gathering around me. The despondent look in their eyes probably mirrors my own. "T-Thank you to all of you for b-bringing him back," I manage to say through the sobs choking me.

Everyone nods their heads.

"Jay's gonna pull through," Ruzek says. "He's as stubborn as they come."

"Yeah," Kevin agrees. "Jay won't throw in the towel like that."

I nod, though I'm not so sure.

x

Hank leads us to a small waiting area outside the infirmary. It's still dark out and the Refuge is washed in shadows and silence. He motions for me to sit, but I refuse. I'm a nervous wreck. I can't stay seated. I pace the floor in front of him, gathering my thoughts. I'm anxious and downright scared, and the movement keeps me calm.

The minutes inch past so slowly, and I begin to get very tired, and my already achy body feels even heavier. It is getting difficult to concentrate. My eyes burn terribly, and focusing becomes a challenge. It is not long before the tiredness turns into extreme fatigue and exhaustion, and my eyes close for a few seconds here and there, but I start at the slightest sound of people coming in and out of the waiting area.

This, I learn, is the true definition of hell. Waiting. The baby is quiet in my belly now, coiled into a little ball on my left side. Perhaps, all my pacing put her to sleep, and the thought of this little piece of Jay slumbering cozily in my belly brings me an inkling of solace.

It is nearing morning when Rhodes and Natalie come into the makeshift waiting room. The sun will not arrive for another hour but the full moon is drifting just above the horizon getting ready to set. They tell us both of Jay's lungs were punctured by six of his ribs that were broken. His kidneys, liver, and spleen were torn, his left arm and leg are broken in multiple places, and also his clavicle and his pelvis are fractured. But he is alive.

I feel weak with relief.

"It's touch-and-go right now. The damage is extensive," Rhodes warns and the look in his eyes makes my stomach sinks. "Jay was without circulation for nearly five minutes, and his blood pressure was very low for almost twenty minutes before. The oxygen supply to his brain was quite insufficient during that time."

"W-What does that mean?" I ask, sniffing and wiping my eyes with my fingers.

Dr. Rhodes and Natalie exchange a long look. "It's possible that Jay suffered brain damage."

I feel the floor disappear beneath me. The shock becomes a paralytic and my mind can't register what he said.

"What is the prognosis?" Hank asks. His voice is calm, but the small vertical line between his brows deepens.

Dr. Rhodes looks around at all the expectant faces gazing at him. "I don't have one," he answers honestly. "Only time will tell."

I wonder if there is a limit to how much a person can cry. Are the numbers of tears finite? Will a person be left with an empty tear container like an empty gas tank, eyes trying to cry but left in a dry? I feel like I'm at this point. There is a terrible feeling of helplessness and numbing sadness that comes with the realization that my worst fear might be realized.

I might have already lost Jay.

My heart is squeezed so tight, I think I cannot breath to speak, but I force the words out. "Can I see him?" I just want touch him, to take hold of his hand, feel his skin under my fingertips.

"Yes," Rhodes says. "But let's keep visitors to a minimum."

I follow Rhodes, but pause in the doorway to Jay's room. He looks smaller in the hospital bed. Fragile. His skin is sallow and pale, his darkened eyelids are shut, and a series of crimson cuts covers his cheek and jaw line. There is a tube in his mouth and IV lines and wires that, although are helping him, looks menacing.

Fear and sadness rise within me, bringing tears back in my eyes. It's an image that will remain in my head forever.

I walk over to him, my throat tight, and lower myself into a plastic chair near the bed. I take his cool, limp hand in both of mine, and cringe as I notice the vivid bruises on his arms – a battleground of needles pricks. My heart shatters a little more.

"Hey babe, I'm here," I whisper, as tears blind me. His presence alone wraps around me like a blanket shutting out the dread.

"Open your eyes and see how big Nora's gotten. She kicks all the time. You'll be able to feel her now." I carefully trace the outline of his jaw, committing every touch, every texture to memory. "You can't leave us now. We can finally have our happily ever after. Remember the cabin by the lake? We can have that now." My voice is strained and unnatural to my own ears.

I carefully press his hand against my cheek feeling all flavors of sadness at the thought of living without his touch, without his hugs and quiet words, without our deepest and most intimate moments, without his kisses, his smile…

"You promised," I cry. "And I'm not letting you off the hook. You hear me? You're not off the hook! You have to come back to us. I need you. Nora needs you. I can't live without you in my life. I can't… I'm not that strong. Please open your eyes. You have to open your eyes. Please?"

But Jay's eyes remain shut and I close my own and rest my head against his arm. Silence hangs in the sterile room, broken only by the monitors beeping and the hissing respirator that sputters rhythmically as it breathes for him.

I'm too exhausted to be startled when Natalie enters the room hours later, breaking the desolate silence.

"Hey," she greets me, holding a cup in one hand and a low quality breakfast sandwich in the other. She sits across from me offering me the food. "Since I know I won't convince you to come with me to the cafeteria, I brought you some breakfast."

"Thanks, Nat. But I'm not hungry," I say as gently as I can.

"You have to eat. If not for you, for her?" Nat points to my belly.

Guilt-tripping without accusation. I see what Nat is doing, and of course it works. I pick at the sandwich and sip the juice. Then I watch her float about the room, checking on the monitors and the various bags hanging from the forest of IV poles around the bed.

"What are his chances?" I ask. I had meant to speak lightly, but my voice betrays me. The tears spill down my cheeks. "You can be honest."

Natalie stiffens, her expression turns serious. "I've seen worse cases," she says. The hesitation in her voice is slight; only the tightening of the muscles in her throat betrays her emotion.

"You think he'll pull through?" I ask.

"He made this far," she says and her answer is hopeful. But my thoughts keep drifting away from the hope to the darkness which wants to engulf me.

"I just… How can I go on without him?" I say before I can stop myself. "How will I look at this baby and not be reminded of him every day? It will be like having my heart ripped out every time I see Jay in _her_?"

"Don't think about that," Natalie says. "Not yet."

I release choked sob. I'm exhausted. I'm defeated.

"Why don't you try to sleep, huh? I can roll an extra bed in here for you."

I nod, my eyes are heavy with exhaustion and grief. I feel too tired to even breathe, and I just know my eyelids will flutter closed eventually whether I want to or not.

I lean against Jay's bed one last time, resting my forehead briefly against his arm.

 _Come back, come back to me,_ I find myself pleading with him. _Open your eyes for me. Please, open your eyes._

x

Two weeks.

It has been two weeks, though it seems like a lifetime.

Jay is still in a coma and on life support. His lungs and kidneys are still compromised. Most of his chest and abdomen is raw from the surgeries (he had another to remove his spleen) and requires frequent bandage changes. He also developed secondary infections (pseudomonas) because of the many open wounds he has. However, his vital signs are slowly improving.

Apparently yesterday Jay responded to pain. I wasn't there to witness it, but evidently he had grimaced during the dressing change on his chest. Jay has been unresponsive overall, and this was worrisome because we feared he may have suffered brain damage. But this little bit of news leads us to believe he's all there.

He is still under heavy sedation, but I'm anxious for him to wake up, to see his beautiful blue eyes staring up at me. But at the same time, I'm nervous about how he might react. The tube down his throat is going to drive him crazy, and I can't imagine what his chest might feel like. The pain might be unbearable.

"How's he doing?" Kim pokes her head inside Jay's hospital room, penetrating my awareness.

I look at Jay, lying wax-faced and still. His skin is so pale that the blue veins show through at the temple and throat, and the sharp, clean bones are so close beneath that he looks like he might have been carved from ivory.

"The same," I say. "Holding his own."

Kim pulls up a chair and places a brown bag on my lap. "Lunch."

"What's on the menu today?" I ask opening the bag. "Pasta? Or mystery meat casserole?" I say lamely.

Kim rolls her eyes. "I think there's some soupy thing, a protein bar, and bread."

"Yum," I mutter sarcastically and begin pick at the contents inside the bag. Between Kim and Natalie, I will never go hungry. "So, I heard Hank pulled you off patrol. Congratulations, and welcome to Intelligence," I say, trying to sound happy, trying to look happy, trying to pretend I can be happy.

Kim's cheek flush and her smile widen. "Yeah, it's temporary, though. Just until you're ready to come back."

"I don't know," I say, "I think Hank is going to keep you upstairs, and after what you did, you deserve a permanent spot in Intelligence."

She smiles. "It is nice to be out of those blue uniforms."

"I bet," I say picking at the food, but not really eating it. "Any developments on the Aedes end?" I ask.

Kim thinks for a moment, probably trying to gauge just how much to tell me. "According to Mouse, they are still scrambling to figure out how Jay got out. But I think they are more shaken by the fact that there's another entity out there jeopardizing their reign."

"Which will end very soon," I say rubbing a hand over my belly. A feeling of anger bubbles up inside me. I try to ignore it. "I hope they rot in hell. A flat hell, that goes on forever and ever."

"Amen to that," Kim says.

x

It is nearing week four and Jay is still comatose, but continuing to hold his own. Besides the apparent grimace a couple of week back, there hasn't been any other telltale sign that he is getting any better.

Seeking distraction, I go to the library in search for books to read. There I find a stack of magazines – newly salvaged from the old world – and a number of tattered paperbacks I hadn't seen before. I pick up a book and thumb through it. It has no cover, but the title page reads _Private Indiscretions._ The description inside the cover reads, "Forced by her very public persona to control her emotions, Dana Sterling found herself at a loss when she came face-to-face with the gorgeous Sam Remington. Privately, Dana feares Sam will make her pay for what they'd both been denied."

Make her pay, eh?

If a distraction is what I want, I can't do much better, I think, and open the book at random.

 _She liked how he tasted and how he felt, hard and soft at the same time but differently. He was hot against her tongue. He moved in short, sharp lifts. His hands clenched the sheet. She liked that, too, and the sounds he made…_

I raise an eyebrow, but continue reading intrigued.

 _He settled between her legs and put his mouth against her, sliding his hands under her, lifting her, dipping his thumbs inside as he worked his magic with his tongue…He had her begging. Still he controlled the moment until he was ready to let her soar. And soar she did, almost beyond consciousness._

I let out a whoop and lose my grasp on the book, which falls on the floor with a plop. The others in the library look sharply at my raucous over the tops of their books.

"Sorry," I murmur, and bend over to retrieve it, my face flaming.

Jay would absolutely hate this book. I can just hear him saying, "I would rather have my blood drained than read _that_."

Suddenly an idea pops in my head. It is crazy and ludicrous, but it I'm desperate. So, I check out every tacky romantic novel I can find.

I start reading these cheesy books out loud to Jay to literally annoy him out of his comatose state. This silly idea is an act of pure desperation, but makes me think I'm doing something useful for a change. Natalie thinks it's hilarious, and so do the nurses, but I often find them lingering inside the room when a particular storyline gets raunchy.

Day after day I read him these overly cheap romances. My heart beats faster, but strangest of all, everything strikes me funny. I'm surprised to find that in the old world cowboys were a big hit. More than half of the books have a sexy cowboy protagonist.

I'm digging through the pile of tattered paperbacks I left on the table by Jay's bed when a nurse, April, pops her head inside the room.

"Starting a new one?"

"Yeah," I say. "The last book didn't have enough oomph."

April laughs. "I still want to know what happened to Garrett."

"He came back from France and told stripper Jackie that he didn't care about her past and proposed to her with his mother's ring."

April scoffs. "If I were Jackie I would have kicked him to the curb. His pompous ass doesn't deserve her."

I laugh, and pick up a seemingly interesting book from the pile in front of me. "Now this is a good one - _A Rancher to Love,_ " I say and chuckle - another cowboy romance. "Tyler knows all too well how difficult it is to rebuild trust. He knows he has to move slowly to win Leah's heart, but he also knows she's worth the wait," I read the synopsis.

"I like it," April says. "I will come back to check on Jay later and maybe listen in."

April leaves and my attention returns to Jay. "What do you think? Should we give it a try?"

I open the book randomly and begin reading.

 _Her heart sped up as Tyler started backing her towards the bedroom, but it was in anticipation. Everywhere he touched, her skin came alive…She wanted Tyler so much that she thought she might burst from the wanting._

"I know how you feel girl," I mutter under my breath.

I continue reading and about half way through the page I hear a low groan coming from the bed. I drop the book in a hurry to stand.

"Jay? Jay…can you hear me –Can you open your eyes?!" To my shock, his eyes flutter open, and I see bloodshot blue irises looking groggily at the ceiling.

I try to speak, to say something, but my pulse is beating hard and fast, my thoughts are crashing together. The anxious constraint that hovered over me suddenly vanishes, to be replaced with a sort of manic excitement.

Jay groans again.

"Oh god, a-are you in p-pain? Y-you need a nurse. Let me get a nurse… a doctor… someone should come and see you…"

His eyes close and I waddle out of the room.

"J-Jay, he opened his eyes, I think he's in pain," I tell the first nurse I see. "H-His eyes… he opened them!"

I feel like my heart has stopped pumping, but I can still hear it beating in my ears. I'm simultaneously happy, anxious, excited – and a host other feelings.

"I'll be right there…" the nurse tells me. "…I'm just going to page Dr. Rhodes now."

I return to the room and take Jay's hand in mine, rubbing while I continue to talk to him, all of it nonsense because my head in spinning, but in the best way.

Jay doesn't open his eyes again until Rhodes does a test that I think is barbaric, but it works. When Rhodes presses his thumb nail into the nail bed of Jay's index finger, Jay groans and tries to pull his finger away.

Dr. Rhodes smiles. "That's a good sign…" he says, smiling over to me in time to see me grimace. "…Jay is no longer comatose – although he isn't properly conscious he is responding appropriately to painful stimuli."

I flash him a tremulous smile showing my relief. "Is he in pain?"

"He's on intravenous morphine s," Rhodes tells me. "I'll make sure a nurse is monitoring his pain levels and up the dose if needed. The more conscious Jay becomes, the more he will be aware of his pain. However, we don't want to give him too much as morphine has a sedative effect."

"Four weeks you've been asleep…" I tell Jay when Dr. Rhodes leaves the room. "…and I get a groan and a moment with your eyes open. Perhaps I should continue reading the book, huh? Maybe I'll get an eye roll next?"

Bending down with some difficulty, I pick up the novel from the floor where I had dropped it earlier, I straighten up to find Jay looking at me again, eyes glazed and disoriented.

I touch his cheek. "Thank you for coming back to me," a sob escapes my lips. "You scared me half to death, don't ever do that again," I tell him, tears falling down my cheeks. "I love you, you stubborn man. You drive me so damn crazy, but I love you."

His blue eyes blink and his fingers very gently curl around my own.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Send in your comments/ideas/constructive criticism. I appreciated them all.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Hello everybody. Sorry for the wait - I promise to post the next chapter early next week to make up for the long wait.**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Jay's POV**

I hear Erin's voice.

She speaks in low, gentle tones, her voice rising and falling but still within the confines of the raspy undertone I love.

 _Her orgasm was thunderous. He kept going. Faster even... Skin slapped against skin. Rivulets of sweat trickled down his face. Tyler closed his eyes. He could feel it building, a monster orgasm..._

What? I think I'm hallucinating.

My head is fuzzy and my eyelids are heavy as lead. There's a rhythmic beeping, I hear it too – _beep, beep, beep—_ and it's lulling. I feel like the beeps aren't related with one another, only my mind strung them together like a melody. But thinking about it, concentrating on it, is too hard. Opening my eyes is also too hard.

I feel like I'm floating, weightless, drifting among shapeless, colorless puffs of nothing – then pain. I feel a pinprick piercing me. It grows slowly. I struggle to open my eyes. My lids are still so heavy. Why are they so heavy?

I hear Erin's voice again, bright and raspy. She seems relieved, but for what? She is uttering nonsensical words and squeezing my hand. I squeeze back, I think. I'm not sure. I don't know if I'm imagining it or what. Maybe I'm dreaming. Maybe I'll wake up and she will be gone.

I'm tired. Something's happened to me. Before I have a chance to think too much about it, I feel a heavy weight crashing down on my head, and then the lights go out.

x

I drift towards consciousness again by hearing someone groan. It's me. It's involuntary. My head is pounding, my throat is sore, and a host of other aches and pains slowly makes themselves known. Also, I feel like there's a truck parked on my chest.

Gathering my strength, I manage to open my eyes into tiny slits. I sneak a peek with unfocused eyes through droopy eyelids but everything is hazy, shapeless.

I try to move, but I feel the familiar pricks of needles pulling at the skin on the back of my hand and my inner arm. Panic spreads in my chest. I thrash my head from side to side, desperate to…to… I don't know what I want to do, but I know I don't want to be here, wherever I am. I close my eyes briefly, bracing myself. But then someone is pushing me gently against the bed. "Hey Jay, just hold still." I recognize the male voice and look up toward it. "Don't worry. You're safe, and we're taking care of you. Now try to be still."

"His pain relief is out…" a woman's voice chimes in – though it's not Erin. Where is Erin? "…but his fluids are still intact."

"Ok. Let's change him onto NG pain relief with morphine boluses if necessary," the familiar voice instructs. "Jay," I lock my eyes with the figure above, slowly coming into focus. "It's me, Dr. Rhodes. Can you hear me?"

I try to speak but no words come out. I can't swallow either. I shake my head, hoping to dispel whatever is clutching at my throat and stopping me from speaking; the sudden movement makes me gag. What is wrong with me? Why is mouth so dry? I bring my fingers to my throat, trying to feel what is wrong there…

"There's a tube in your throat helping you breathe," he says as if reading my thoughts. "Don't worry that's coming out soon."

Immediately I become completely aware of a tube in my mouth and down my throat. The sensation is worse than the pain on my chest.

I can see Dr. Rhodes's lips moving, but I can't pick up the words anymore. I have so many questions, but my eyes are so heavy. I don't want to fall back into darkness where I can't make sense of anything. But hard as I struggle against it, I feel myself sinking beneath the dark veil of sleep.

X

I know something really bad happened to me, but I can't quiet remember exactly.

I continue to be in a daze for some time – can't tell if it's been days or weeks. I dream about Erin. I hear her voice, feel her touch. I dream of my hand on her belly, the warmth of her skin, the soft nudge of the baby against my hand. These dreams are so real that for a little while I'm not sure I'm dreaming. I wonder whether Erin is really here, and her touch is really real.

A telltale sign that I'm gaining consciousness is the onset of pain. My ribs are aching right now, and a fit of coughs rips through my torso like a searing rod down my windpipe. On the bright side, I realize I don't have the tube in my throat anymore – thank God. We're making progress. I try to take deep breaths, hoping to clear my lungs and ease the burning in my throat.

I hear Erin's voice coming through – raspy and sweet.

 _Quickly, he felt her orgasm building, and just as she tensed under him, her body arching with the power of her climax, he simply kissed her, pressing his lips to the moist flesh between her legs, and let his energy flow into her. She screamed out…_

Wait? This Again? What is she saying?

"Er-n?" I croak and a fiery, burning sensation races down my throat and churns like a red-hot furnace in my gut. I open my eyes and see Erin in slashes of light and shadow above me. She looks beautiful and healthy. Her face is a little rounder, her cheeks flushed pink.

"I'm here, babe," she says, and I feel her fingers interlacing with mine. "Can you hear me?"

"I-I he-arr y-ou," I slur, but I think my voice is too hoarse to be intelligible. Maybe I didn't even say it aloud.

"Are you in pain?" Erin's voice filters through my ears again.

I nod. "Y-ss."

"I'm going to get Dr. Rhodes, okay? I'll be right back," she says.

I try to hold on, to stay, but I can't do it. The pain is overwhelming. My head pounds at the same rhythmic pace as the constant beeping I hear. _Beep_ (pound), _beep (_ pound), _beep_ (pound). Time falls away from me. When I open my eyes again, I see Erin and Dr. Rhodes now, and I try to smile. And is that Hank? I try to say something; all that comes out is a croak of sound. And maybe I imaged it.

"Welcome back, Jay," Hank says.

I try to wave my hand. Erin's face suddenly breaks into a wide smile, her eyes glaze over, and tears are rolling down her cheeks. Why is she crying?

"Wh-uss wr-ng?" I manage to mumble and reach my hand to her. She takes it and kisses it, pressing it to her tear-streaked cheek.

"Nothing is wrong. Everything is good."

The image of her flickers, fading, her voice turns into white noise. She says something to me, but all I can make out are the words, _thank you_. _What happened to me?_ \- I want to ask, but the next thing I know, the light disappears and I'm out.

x

The next time I wake up, I'm crushingly sore, but the pain is bearable now. One of the infirmary nurses, clad in blue scrubs, approaches the bed, holding a cup with a bendy straw sticking out of it. I think her name is April.

"Let me adjust your bed so you can drink."

When I finally get a drink, the water feels like heaven itself on my throat.

"You were intubated," she clarifies, as if that explained everything.

When I start to pull another long draw, she slides the straw away. "Let's take this slow, okay?"

I nod, even though I don't have a choice.

"Er-in?" I ask

The nurse steps out of my field of view and I see her curled on her side on a gurney in the corner of the room. Although the shirt she's wearing is loose, I can see that the curve of her belly poking from underneath it. I also notice her subtle curves are not nearly as subtle anymore. The body that I'd so thoroughly explored with my hands and my lips is growing and changing, and the reason overwhelms me and makes my love for her amplify ad infinitum.

Our daughter. Our child. My _family_.

The nurse leaves and I continue to watch her across the room. Her face is turned slightly up, her lips parted, her silky golden hair is mussed and falling over her forehead. And that's when everything comes crashing back to me. Bunny. The Aedes. The torture. My ribs painfully tighten, my eyes fill with tears, and my shoulders shake with sobs I can't hold in.

I don't know if I'm crying out of happiness, fear, or relief. Maybe is a mixture of everything.

I shift and the bed creaks. Erin is a light sleeper and she stirs, adjusting her pillow. Just when I think she's going to drift back, her sleepy eyes open and look at me. "OhmygodJay?" Her words come out in one slur.

"He-y Ba-be," I say stretching my arms towards her. "C'mere."

She rushes over to me and very gently touches my face and arms and grips my hand, like she's making sure that I'm really here. She can't stop touching me and now we are both crying.

"A-are y-you in any pain?" She asked, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "They've been scaling back your pain meds."

"I-m oh-kay." I say, my throat still burns though.

As if reading my mind, she says, "Your throat is probably sore. Try not to speak."

I reach out my hand to wipe away the tears on her cheek. "You lo-k so bu-tful."

She looks timidly at me, manages to smile in spite of her tears, and says, "I look huge."

I shake my head. "You lo-k pr-fct."

I pull at her hand and her lips meet mine, sending a sudden burst of electricity through to my whole body, almost causing my limbs to move by themselves. Oh, how I missed her.

"Nora?" I ask.

Erin looks around, not seeing anyone her hands drops to her protruding belly beneath her loose-fitting t-shirt. "She's so good." She smiles widely, her eyes distant and unfocused, perhaps trained on some motherly sub universe I can't see. "She's growing really big. Natalie says maybe another month and a half. Here—give me your hand."

Erin takes my hand and presses it against the swollen left side of her belly. Her stomach feels firm and warm to the touch.

"Right there. just wait a moment; she'll start to squirm soon."

She puts her palm on top of mine, and sure enough I feel something push back. My eyes widen and meet hers and there's so much love on her face.

"Ah-mmzin," I say, staring at her with a goofy smile on my face. I know this is a privilege beyond anything I can imagine.

We remain completely still and completely silent for a few moments until I feel another strong kick against my hand.

"Strong," I mutter.

"Nora says welcome home, dad." Erin's voice is softer now. Everything about her is softer – her hair, her skin, her eyes. "She's very active, especially mid-afternoon. Normally in the morning she's quiet."

"Not a mornin' person, like her mom," I mutter and grimace. My throat is on fire.

Erin chuckles, but my grimace doesn't go unnoticed. "Maybe you shouldn't talk anymore. How about you rest a bit, huh?" She suggests, her hand cupping my cheek.

I nod and cautiously scooch over on the bed and pat the empty spot beside me. I want her as close to me as I can. I'm still not sure I'm not dreaming.

"I don't fit there," she tells me. "Remember?" She gestures towards her belly.

I smile, but motion with my head, my eyes pleading. _C'mon._

She looks down at the empty spot, then back at me - considering. A moment later she relents and maneuvers herself under the wires and tubes and climbs on the bed next to me. It takes a moment for us to adjust, but we slowly find our fit. I snake my arm carefully around her, ignoring the pain pulsing through my body.

My other hand travels under her shirt and rests on the taunt, warm swell of her stomach. Erin wasn't joking. She's pretty big, but in the best way possible.

"I love you," I whisper. My heart feels full enough to explode

"I love you more," she whispers back.

x

Recovery is slow.

Three days later I wake up feeling as if my bed is shaking. Is it an earthquake? I put my hands on my chest only to figure out that the pounding and shaking is _inside me._ I feel my heart beating wild and erratic, fluttering and jumping around. Blood is pounding in and behind my ears, while my heart races, stops, leaps, slows, then races again.

Erin is here. She's reading a tattered pregnancy book out loud. "The contractions intensify, rather than ease up, with activity and aren't relieved by a change in position. Contractions become progressively more frequent and painful, and generally (but not always) more regular…."

"Erin—" I croak.

"…Early contractions feel like gastrointestinal upset, or like heavy menstrual cramps, or like lower abdominal pressure—"

"—Erin, Something's wrong," I grit out, not trying to alarm her. But her eyes widen in panic.

She shuts the book and hurries to me. "What's going on?"

I clutch at my chest, unable to speak. My heart is about to rip itself clean out of my chest.

Erin runs out and in seconds a nurse is at my bedside. Briefly she feels my pulse, then whips out her blood pressure cuff while pressing the emergency call button. "I need a doctor STAT."

"What's happening?" I hear Erin ask. Her voice is laced with worry and fear. "Is he going to be okay?"

Before the nurse can answer, Dr. Rhodes arrives, followed by a few infirmary nurses. He quickly orders medication injected into my vein, one dose after another. They wire me to a device which produces a graph on a long tape which they study intently.

I lie quietly, detached, floating, as if what is going on is happening to someone else (whatever they injected in me is making everything hazy). I can see Erin's flushed face, shirking back, broadening the gap between us. My heart hurts even more seeing her so desolate. Her hands are imperceptibly stroking her belly, probably quieting our squirmy little babe inside her.

 _It's okay_ , I try to say, but I'm not sure the words come out.

However, within an hour, everything settles down, but the nurses don't leave me alone for a minute. The blood pressure cuff stays in my arm and a heart monitor is permanently installed in the room.

For the next four days, I stay wired to the monitor by plastic suction cups attached to my chest. They only unhook me temporarily when I need to use the restroom. Every two hours, day and night, they wake me for blood pressure, pulse, and temperature readings.

Turns out, I'm experiencing something called arrhythmic spasm. Dr. Rhodes thinks my heart has been overworked due to prolonged periods of low blood volume. He can't tell the extent of the damage, but thinks that the next time I donate; it will be my last.

"Will he be okay, though?" Erin asks, her brows pulled in a deep frown. She hasn't left my side since the irregular arrhythmia happened. I can see the dark circles under her eyes, the pale cast to her skin. Erin looks tired and a little sad, and my heart aches for what I'm putting her through.

"We've been monitoring him for almost a week now, and the spasms don't seem to be malign. But," Rhodes turns and looks straight at me. "You have done some irreparable damage to your heart over the years. You see, when your blood volume is low, your heart has to pump extra hard to nourish all the organs. It is safe to say that your heart has been overworked in the past years, but more so recently." Rhodes pauses. "What I'm trying to tell you is that, your heart will not withstand any added stress. For all intents and purposes, you should consider yourself no longer a donor."

His words strike me like a gut punch. The idea that the one thing that's been my identifier is simply no longer hits a strange chord within me. It's like someone changed your name. You might not have liked your original name, but it was your name nonetheless. Being a donor was my identity.

I look at Erin and the frown on her face is short-lived, because a smiles tugs on her lips. "He won't have to donate." She looks down at her stomach, and Rhodes nods, understanding the underlining meaning. "It won't be too long now. I will be full term in just a month."

"Just a month, huh?"

Erin nods. "The baby will be here and Natalie will be able to make the serum. The unit already has a plan in place. The Aedes' days are counted."

I can hear the subtle anger in her voice, the way it quivers in her throat. I reach for her hand and squeeze it.

"Still, you're out of the game," Dr. Rhodes says, and pats my shoulder. "Now, take it easy for the next few days, okay?

"Okay," I agree.

After Rhodes leaves, Erin turns to me and asks, "How do you feel?"

"I feel okay," I shrug, trying to seem nonchalant and convince myself as much as her that I'm okay. But the shock of the news must have shown as plainly on my face as in my voice.

"No, how do you feel about not being a donor anymore?"

"I don't know," I tell her honestly. "It's what defined me for so long. I…I…don't know how to feel."

"This might be your chance to redefine yourself, without the world on your shoulders."

"Yeah, maybe," I smile, but Erin knows my head is in a tailspin right now. For all intents and purposes, I'm still a type O donor. However, if I donate my blood my heart won't be able to take it. If I consciously chose to help someone, I will be signing my own death certificate.

Erin brushes her hand over the frown lines on my face and says, "Instead of being Jay, the type O donor… maybe you will just be Nora's dad. That's not so bad, right?"

I smile. "No, that's not so bad. I also wouldn't mind being Erin's husband."

Her deep green eyes shine like emeralds, and her cheeks flush pink. "I'd love that."

If Erin asked me to pluck the moon out of the sky for her tonight, I would. "Well, I love _you_."

x

Once out of isolation, a parade of well-wishers, mostly the Intelligent unit, come at all hours of the day. I welcomed their presence since it gives Erin a minute to decompress. Otherwise, she would live in my infirmary room all day, every day. I understand her clinginess (and welcome it too), but I need her to take care of herself, instead of me, in this last leg of her pregnancy.

The complication of my internal injuries keep me in bed for a little longer than I want, but with a bit of physical therapy I am able to be up on my feet and out of the infirmary within a couple of weeks.

Slowly things go back to normal. I'm still not one hundred percent, but I'm cleared to help Erin with the greenhouse chores. I never understood why she liked working there it so much. The air is always full of dust that always gives me an irresistible urge to cough. But after spending a few days there with her, I can totally see why. It feels good to help things grow. Also, watching Erin work with her hair gathered into a kind of a loose knot atop her head, with dirt on her chin, and with the roundness of her belly clearly poking underneath her shirt does something to me that I can't quite explain.

We are mixing soils one day and she looks especially beautiful in the gleam of the light filtering in, her green eyes shining like emeralds in my view. It is taking every ounce of my willpower not to pull her into my arms and taste her skin.

I watch fascinated as her rounded stomach suddenly heaves, as the little inhabitant shifts position. She pats her stomach, but her palm is closed into a fist against it and she winces. She closes her eyes, and a frown pleats her brow as she keeps her hands fisted over the swell of her belly.

"Erin, are you alright?"

"It's just a cramp." She waves her hand dismissively. "Natalie said they are practice contractions," Erin says, her hands soothing her shirt into place. "She said only if the pain becomes constant and the time intervals shortens, should I send for her."

"Do you want to take a break?"

"No, no, I'm fine, really," she says waddling towards me, hand outstretched. Then she stops and her hand is back to rubbing her belly. "There she goes again. You know, I read that babies stop moving so much in the third trimester. But I guess this girl didn't get the memo. Sometimes I feel like my liver is black and blue from being kicked so much."

I chuckle and gather her to me so that our child is solidly between us. "C'mon, let's go outside for a minute. A bit of fresh air will do us both some good."

Erin clings to me as we slowly make our way outside. Every step I take I feel the pull of the stiff muscles in my legs. Though the day is bright for a change, it is particularly cold, brisk air stinging our ears.

"How long do you think until she's here?" I ask, nodding towards her belly.

"I don't know. But I do feel very heavy and full, like I could pop any minute."

I stop walking and kiss her brow. "Promise you'll tell the minute you think she's on her way."

Erin smiles warmly up at me. "Of course." She runs her hands soothingly up and down my chest. "Are you anxious about the birth?"

"Yes, aren't you?" I ask.

Erin's shoulders move slightly, not quite a shrug. "Yes, but I'm the one pushing her out." She chuckles nervously and her dimples appear on each side of her cheeks. "I'm not worried about the pain. I can bear pain. I'm more worried about her. I just want her to be okay."

I nod.

"What are _you_ worried about?" She asks, her arms wrapping around me, stroking my back.

"I'm worried I won't be able to bear to see you in pain - that will take more strength than I have."

Erin squeezes my arm, her eyes softening, almost as if she knows exactly what I mean. I lower my mouth to hers, kissing her softly at first and then more deeply, allowing every emotion to bleed into the kiss.

She sighs into my mouth. "I hate to break this up, but I have to go to the bathroom. Again."

I smile. "I will follow you go back in, it's getting cold."

A few minutes goes by and she doesn't come back. Not too worried, but somewhat worried (she is nine months pregnant), I go looking for her. She's not in the bathroom or anywhere near the greenhouse space. _Maybe she went to grab something to eat?_ I think, but no one in the kitchen has seen her.

I finally find Erin in the bullpen after Platt tells me she saw her trailing after Burgess. I walk in and a stunned salience fills the pen. I look at Erin, and her pale green eyes are wide open, but she doesn't seem to be looking at anything – certainly not at me.

"Hey, what's going on?" I ask.

Erin doesn't move, doesn't speak. I pan my eyes around and everyone looks morbidly to each other, uncertain of their next move.

"Guys, what's going on? Tell me now. I'm going to find out anyways."

Mouse clears his throat, his eyes are wide and haunted. " _They_ know."

"Who knows what?" I ask confused and a bit irritated. "Just come out with it."

"They found us – the Aedes," Erin says, her voice laced with a bit of hysteria. "They are coming for the Refuge…" her voice brakes and her hands lower to cradle her stomach. "They are coming for us."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Leave your comments and I will do my best to answer/reply to them. Cheers!**


	27. Chapter 27

**Here's the next chapter guys. I hope you all like it!**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Erin's POV**

 _They are coming for us._

I hear an unfamiliar sound echoing off the walls of the pen and soon realize it is my own cries of sorrow and anger. My heart aches and I don't know if it's the pregnancy hormones, but I feel that so much of my life seems unfair right now. Then, a sort of hangover settles fast in my head, a black dizzy vortex that leaves me disoriented to the point that I can hardly keep my balance. The baby kicks, almost in protest, and I rub my belly softly.

 _I hear you. I will never let anything happen to you._

Then Jay is next to me now, looking down at me with his worried blue eyes, limpid as the winter sky. The tension in him shows in the lines of his face.

"How much time do we have?" I hear Jay ask.

"Forty-eight hours, tops," Mouse replies.

Hank steps out and stands in the middle of the pen. The fluorescent light above shines fresh on his face, and I can see the lines of grief etched on his forehead.

"What's the plan, Boss?" Ruzek asks. Kim is by his side, her face pale with anxiety, much like mine I suspect.

Hank doesn't answer; he looks out the window, a look of unutterable distance on his face. Ruzek repeats his question, and slowly Hank comes back from wherever his mind went.

When Hank finally speaks, his voice is calm. "Trigger the evacuation protocol. We need to escort everyone to the safe houses. Make sure our supplies are stocked away in the trucks and all our intelligence records are hidden in the safe room." Hank pauses and looks to Antonio. "Talk to Platt. We need patrol at each check point past the divide. We need to know how many are coming and what weapons they have."

Everyone scrambles about and in seconds the evacuation siren begins blaring.

I feel numb, by the shock and sheer enormity of what is happening. Impossible to believe that the one place I've called home will most likely be destroyed, wiped off the face of the earth.

I look at Jay and his face is set in rigid lines, the furrows deep from nose to mouth. His hands flex suddenly into fists at his sides. He shut his eyes, breathing heavily.

"Jay, Erin," Hank calls with a quick wave of his hand and we follow him into his office. He pulls out a map and from the markings on it, I can tell these are the location for the safe houses. He pulls a tack and carefully pins it on the map where there are no markings. "You guys go here. This is the safest place for Erin. It is underground and off the grid. No one will know where you are." Hank turns and looks at me. "Do you think you can walk there? Taking the car will leave tire tracks behind," he explains.

"I-I think so," I say, though I don't think I have much of a choice. A sense of helplessness swirls around me like a mist. Every nerve cries out to do _something_. But what? "What about you? Where will you be going?" I ask.

Hank turns around and walks out of his office wordlessly.

"Hank," I call after him, a sense of foreboding seeps my bones. "Where will you be going?"

He stops, his back turned to me. "I'm staying," he grumbles, a definitive bleakness in his voice.

At his words, those who were scrambling about the pen stop dead in their tracks.

"Y-You what?" I stare at Hank stupefied. I feel the blood drain from my face as I think about what will happen if he actually stays. "Y-You c-can't."

"Hank, you can't stay here. The Aedes is not coming to have a chat," Antonio chimes in. "They will kill you."

Jay takes a few steps closer to Hank and says, "If you stay, I'm staying."

My heart drops. "Jay, you can't—" I begin to protest.

"—This whole thing is because of me," he interjects. "If I hadn't set foot here, then none of this would be happening."

"I will stay too," Kevin pipes up. "This is the only home I've ever known. I will stay and protect it," he says as a way of explanation.

I reach for Jay, but he jerks away, face strained, looking desperately at Hank. I lay a tentative hand on his arm, meaning to pull him back to me, but he doesn't notice -he wouldn't have noticed if I had struck him with a pipe.

"Whatever you're thinking of doing, you can't do it alone," Jay reasons. "You'll need help. We have the advantage, if we're smart about we can take them. Or at least slow them down so that everyone is safely away."

"Boss," Ruzek also interjects. "I'm in, too."

Hank's face grows red. "No one is staying! Ruzek, Atwater – Your job is to escort everyone to the safe houses. And you," he turns to Jay, "You need to go with Erin. You need to make sure she and the baby are safe." Hanks places his hands on either side of Jay's shoulders and adds, "This is not on you. This has been boiling way before Erin dragged you here. This is something _I_ started, and something _I_ have to finish." Hank's words come out with a sad sense of finality.

"But—" Jay begins to protest.

"—No buts," Hank says. "Your only obligation is to Erin and that baby, do you hear me?"

Jay nods.

Hank pauses, looking at all the anxious eyes trained on him. "Now, everyone needs to go and do their job. Is that understood?"

Everyone mumbles under their breath and slowly, one by one, they disappear from the pen.

"Hank—" I begin. Tears pooling in my eyes.

"—Don't worry about me. You worry about that baby, okay?"

With tears flooding my eyes and a tight heart full of love and gratitude for the only father I've ever had, I wrap my arms around him and hold him as tightly as I can.

"You're my family," I tell him.

Hank pulls away, his eyes glazed. "You're about the best thing that ever happened to me. I mean that." He kisses my forehead. "Now go with Jay."

I feel Jay's fingers wrap around my arm, pulling me away. The word goodbye hovers at the tip of my tongue, but I can't say it - it sounds so formal and cold, with an implied sense of permanence. I can't accept that this is it. I have to hold hope. If not for me, for the squirming baby inside my belly.

I leave without saying goodbye.

x

By the time we have everything packed and ready to go, a beautiful fiery blaze of reds, yellows, and oranges sparkle over the horizon with the setting sun. The outside air is cool and when it hits me it makes me shiver. The beauty in the sky, however, juxtaposes with the melancholy on the ground, as caravans of terrified people leave their home.

Without speaking, Jay and I begin to make our away towards our haven.

We walk nonstop for nearly five hours before we decide to set camp for the night. My back aches and it's so cold that I can't feel my hands or feet. Jay finds us a manhole and we carefully climb down. The pungent smell of raw sewage hangs like a sulfur cloud in the close confines of the pipes.

We have food in our packs, but neither of us have the stomach to eat it. Instead, we roll ourselves up in blankets and lay down to sleep, cradled in a small platform above the dampened ground.

"Try to sleep," Jay murmurs, very softly in my ear. I hear an unmistakable saddens in his voice. "We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

I can't sleep. Our makeshift bed is hard beneath my hips and shoulders. My back is still aching as if I had been kicked all over its length. But even if my aches subside sufficiently to let me sleep, my mind won't. I keep thinking of Hank, and Adam, and Kim, and Kevin. I think of Platt and the patrolmen. Are they okay? Did they run into hunters? Vagrants?

I don't think I sleep, but I doze off, my dreams full of trouble. I wake shivering with cold, and edge out a hand, reaching for Jay. He is not here. I sit up and find that he has spread his blanket over me while I dozed, but it is a poor substitute for the heat of his body.

I find the manhole cover is partially open, a dim slither of moonlight filters through the opened crack. I wrap myself in our blankets and with great effort I climb up the ladder. I find Jay sitting some distance away, with his back to me. The wind has picked up and I pull the blanket tighter around myself.

I walk over to him and my steps make a light crunching sound on the crumbled pavement. I know he hears me, but he doesn't turn around or give any sign of surprise when I sink down with a plot beside him.

He is sitting with his chin in his hands, his elbow on his knees, eyes wide and sightless as he gazes out into the darkness.

"Are you okay?" I ask quietly. "It's cold. Maybe you should come back to the manhole. At least there's no wind."

"I'm fine," he says, with a marked lack of conviction. "You should go to sleep, Erin." His voice is even, but with an undertone of hopelessness that makes me move that much closer to him.

"I'm not going anywhere," I tell him.

He sighs and pulls me closer, settling me up on his knee, so that his arms are underneath the blanket, holding me tight. Little by little my shivering eases.

"What are you doing out here?" I ask at last.

"Thinking," he says softly. "Or trying to."

"About…"

"Everything," he says. "What's going to happen to the Refuge, the people. I think of Nora and…" he doesn't finish the thought.

I don't know how to answer him because those are also questions swirling in my head. I see that the radio is by his foot, so I decide to change the subject. "Has anyone said anything?" I ask motioning with my chin to the radio.

"No," he shakes his head, tightening his hold on me. "Nothing but static."

"No news is good news, right?" I say, trying very hard to sound optimistic.

We stay clasped close; I can feel the warmth of his breathing in my ear. He draws a breath as though he is about to speak, but then lets it out without saying anything. I turn and touch his face.

"What is it, Jay?"

After a moment Jay lets out a sigh, defeated, then touches his forehead to mine. "Is it wrong for me to have you? This is all happening because I wanted you more than life itself. I was selfish. I wanted you, and didn't care what price I had to pay. I just didn't realize _everyone_ would pay the price too," he whispers. His face bone-white, his eyes no more than dark pits in the dim light. "Had I kept my distance…"

I take his face between my hands, feeling the wide bones cold underneath my palms. "I want you just as much. Do we share the fault then?" I ask.

Jay turns his face slightly, so his lips are against my palm, and his hand come up, caressing mine. His fingers are cold, too. "No. It's not your fault," he says.

"Then it's not yours either," I reason. I draw his hand around my rounded waist, and pull him close. He comes, eager for comfort, and lies his head on my shoulder.

"I love you, Jay." I say with as much conviction as I can put in my voice. "I want _you_ , as much as you want me. And our love for each other has nothing to do with what's happening. You heard Hank. This has been boiling before you came in the picture. The only reason everyone was able to evacuate safely, is because of you. If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have Mouse, we wouldn't know their plans."

His hand rest gently on my belly, tracing invisible lines.

"And Nora. Without you she wouldn't exist and a cure for the virus wouldn't be possible."

His breathing holds a hint of a smile. I can tell Nora will always be his happy place.

"The Aedes may have won this battle. But we will win the war," I tell him. "Let them think they got us. Let them get comfortable again, only for us to knock them on their asses. Defeated by a tiny baby."

"By the all-powerful Eleanor Halstead," Jay says and kisses my forehead gently. "Loving you, Erin Lindsay, has put me through hell. But I wouldn't change a thing."

"Loving you hasn't been a bed of roses, either." I could remind him of recent events, but I decide not to.

For the first time today he laughs out loud. "No," he says. "But you'll keep on doing it."

"Maybe." I shrug.

"You're very stubborn," he says, a smile clear in his voice.

"Takes one to know one," I retort.

It is very late, maybe four o'clock in the morning, and the full moon is low in the sky, seen only now and then through the moving clouds. The winds are shifting and picking up, in the turning hour between dark and dawn.

"Since it seems neither of us are going to sleep; do you think we can start going now?" Jay asks suddenly. "Not wait till morning? The sooner we get to the safe house, the better off we are."

My whole body is aching from weariness and the extra weight I'm hauling. But I stand up and brush the hair out of my face.

"Let's go, then."

x

It's mid-morning and after a quick stop to eat breakfast, we are back on the road. The winter sun broke through, for the first time in hours, but its warmth is not sufficient to overcome the intense cold. My back is killing me. The pain is low and insistant. I try to massage it, put pressure with the heel of my hand, but it doesn't improve. At some point, Jay notices me writhing and stops.

"Hey," he comes close, dropping all our bags on the ground. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just my back. The extra weight is catching up to me," I tell him, and an involuntary shiver racks my entire body. "Plus, the lack of sleep or our makeshift bed last night didn't help."

Jay kisses my forehead. His lips linger and it warms my chilled skin. He rubs his hands up and down the sides of my arms, trying to warm me up. "Do you want to take a break?"

"No, I just want to get there," I tell him. "How about you? Leg doing okay?"

"Muscle's a bit stiff, but I can manage." He smiles, though it does not quite reach his slightly bloodshot eyes. "Where does your back hurt?" He asks, already pressing the heel of his hand into my back and dragging down my spine.

"There," I say softly, grimacing in pain.

The smile disappears from his face, leaving him looking strained and tired. "Here, let me…"

He begins to massage the spot with his palm, it huts as he presses on it, but the pressure starts to feel good. He swirls his right hand in a circular motion, beginning in the middle back, using the heel of his hand to press down. Slowly, the pain begins to recede, my muscles loosen and the tension drops.

"That feels better," I say.

"Once we get to the safe house, we'll do a hot compress and that should loosen the muscles a bit more."

Jay plants a quick kiss on my cheek and hauls the packs over his shoulder. He places his gloved hand on the small of my back, and gently urges me on.

We walk for another hour and the pain has now spread, engulfing my entire lower half. It's intense for a minute, then backs off. At one point it feels like a fist is hitting me from inside, taking my breath, causing me to stop and bend over in pain.

"Erin," I hear Jay say. "Babe, babe…you okay?"

I nod my head, but there must be something in my face that tells Jay exactly what I'm thinking. _Nora is coming._

"I-Is the baby….?" Jay can't finish the thought. His face turns pale white, as if someone pulled a plug and all his blood had drained from his head. "A-Are you having contractions?"

"I don't know," I say. "My due date is still two weeks away. Maybe it's just the stress…or practice contractions…or I exerted myself from walking so much," I tell him, trying to convince myself otherwise.

"Erin…."

"Jay, I don't know. This is my first time, and it's not like I have anyone to ask about it," I say with an unintended bite to my voice. Tears spring to my eyes.

"Hey, it's okay. We are almost there. W-We'll figure it out." He gathers me into his arms and strokes my hair. "It's all right. We'll call Dr. Manning from the safe house. She went to the one in Wenmoth. They should have arrived this morning. She'll tell us what to do."

We continue walking and (almost) like I'm in denial, I ignore the waves of pain that comes and goes, and try to keep putting one foot in front of the other. However, a few hours later, after stopping numerous times, shedding a few more tears, I'm writhing in pain. With contractions, nearly seven minutes apart, I'm out of denial. After a particular painful one, I stare at Jay, at the hard lines around his mouth. At the worry in his eyes.

"Over?" he asks.

I nod. "Yes. How long was that one, two minutes?"

"One minute," he says. "One minute long. Six minutes apart."

Helpless, no other word can sum up my feelings. "She's coming, Jay," I admit quietly, my voice breaking. "What are we going to do?"

"Hey, look at me." He tips my chin upwards with his finger, and I meet his blue gaze. He places his hand on my shoulder and says with as much confidence as he can muster. "I-It's going to be okay. Babies have been born since the dawn of time, right?. We ca do this, okay?"

He wraps his arms around me again and I can feel his body shivering, though I'm not sure it's because of the cold.

We walk the last few miles and suddenly I feel a sudden rush of warm liquid course down my legs. I stop and stand dumbly for a moment, trying to register what's happening. Did I just pee myself? Then it dawns on me that my water must have broken, but I still do my best to tell myself it can't be.

"Is it another one? It's only been two minutes since the last—"

"—No," I shake my head and look down. Jay's gaze follows. "I think my water b-broke..." my voice drops off.

Jay takes a moment to compose himself, to gather his thoughts, and a smile breaks across his face. "T-That's good," he says surprisingly. "I-It means things are progressing. We want this to happen. This is good," he nods his head, as if trying to also convince himself. "Everything is happening as it should."

Jay speaks calmly, and I'm torn between the urge to kiss him and the urge to slap him. _Everything is happening as it should?_ Nothing is happening as it should! We are alone in the middle of nowhere, running away from an army that wants to kill us!

"Jay—"

"—I know, I know," he says as if reading my thoughts. "We have to think positive." His voice is firm and confident. "Everything will be okay. We are almost there."

By the time we arrive at the safe house, I feel like I hardly have time to feel relief from the last contraction before the next one comes, and each contraction is more intense than the last. The pressure _down there_ keeps building and building. I feel like I'm going to explode.

I'm filled with doubt and trepidation. Will I be able to push this baby out? How will I survive this delivery? I had thought about this day, imagined how it would be, but in the safety of the Refuge and in Natalie's capable hands. Now I feel like I'm driving into a pitch black tunnel, with no idea as to what lies ahead and no other option expect going forward.

We walk into the shack and it's abandoned and falling apart. Quickly, Jay begins to feel the baseboards until he finds a loose one and hauls it out of the way, revealing a trap door. He pulls It open revealing a set of stairs. We walk down the steps with only a flash light lighting the way. Quickly Jay finds the generator and cranks it on. It hums noisily and the lights flicker on, one by one.

"Not bad," he says, gesturing to the surprisingly conformable and clean little space. "Let me get the heater going. Why don't you go lie down while I find the secure phone line and try to reach Natalie?"

I do as he says and it feels good to finally be off my feet. I close my eyes and feel the next contraction coming. I think Jay also senses that it's coming and hushes to my side. The pain from the contraction grips my entire body. It is absolutely excruciating and I'm overwhelmed by an urge to grab hold of something and squeeze the life out of it. Unfortunately for Jay, his hands are the most accessible target right now.

"Easy, easy. Breath Erin. Take deep breaths."

By the time the contraction ends, Jay's already on the phone.

"…About 4 minutes apart. Yes, her water broke... Was the liquid clear? It was, right?" He looks at me for confirmation and I nod. "It was clear...Yeah...Sure, I can do that... Okay…. I'll do that too… I will keep you updated. Thanks, bye."

"Natalie?" I ask a bit out of breath.

"Yes! She thinks you're going to rock this, and so do I," his smile is wide and I find a bit of comfort in it. "We should have everything we need. It's going to be okay. We can do this." He kisses my lips, his optimism seeping through me. Then, he looks sheepishly at me and says, "Now, I-I need to check you down there."

Only when the little room is nice and warm, do I shed all my clothes for Jay to take a look.

"I don't see a head…" he says with a shrug. "She told me to look for a head."

I laugh despite myself. Jay and I look at each other wide-eyed. "She's coming," he says almost reverently. "She's really coming."

I nod. "I'm scared."

He takes my hand in both of his and kisses it. "Me too. But we got this. _You_ got this."

For his sake and mine, I hope he is right.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. Cheers!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Here is the next chapter!**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Jay's POV**

This is it.

Nora is coming. This should be the happiest day, the happiest moment of my life. But all I can think is: _this is not the way it is supposed to happen._

Erin has been in labor for nearly twelve hours now and I'm genuinely amazed by her strength. Watching her, I realize fully why it is called "labor." Giving birth is hard work. If it wasn't for Natalie calling and talking Erin and I through it, I don't know if I would be able to keep myself together.

The contractions are coming every two to three minutes now, and they are grim. There is no comfortable position. Erin moves from side to side, she kneels on the edge of the bed, she paces… nothing makes this process any less painful. I just sit near her, giving her sips of water, adding or removing blankets, rubbing her back, neck, and shoulders – just trying to be (feel) useful.

Occasionally I will take a look _down there_ , like Natalie said, just to make sure the baby's head isn't visible.

Erin draws in her breath sharply then, and puts both hands on her distended abdomen. I stare, seeing her belly draw up suddenly tight and round. Her hair is soaked with perspiration, and her face is bright red with strain. She bites her bottom lip and breathes heavily for a moment, then relaxes. Her belly resuming its normal shape, a slightly pendant teardrop, rounded at both ends.

"Over?" I ask.

She nods. "Yes. What else did Natalie say," Erin asks, smiling tiredly up at me.

"She told me to sterilize the scissors with alcohol and our cooler to keep the placenta and the cord blood viable until she gets here. She also said to have warm towels by the heater. We only have the one towel, but I put some of my warm flannels there." I take a cup to her lips. "Here— she told me to keep you hydrated too."

Erin sips and leans back on the bed. "I hope everyone made it to the safe houses okay," she says.

"I'm sure they did. We would have heard otherwise." I squeeze her shoulders and kiss her. I look at her solemn face, and the lines between her brows merely deepen, but I know immediately what is on her mind. "We would have heard if anything had happened to Hank."

Erin shrugs, her face a mask of sadness and fear. Then another contraction brings Erin to her feet this time, and she begins to pace like a caged animal. I wrap my arms around her and we pace together up and down, back and forth across the small room. I support her, fearing she might drop to the floor if I don't hold her up.

We continue to make several slow circuits of the room in between contractions for the next few hours or so, pausing when one strikes, going on when it eases.

"Babe, you're doing so great." I tell her running a cooling cloth over her flushed neck and back.

"How much longer do you think?" Erin asks.

"I don't know, but we are definitely on the home stretch," I tell her, not really knowing if it is true - just wanting to reassure her.

"I don't know how much longer I can take," she says finally. "What is she waiting for?"

"For the perfect moment, I guess," I say in a delicate attempt to lighten the tension and diminish her fears. I dip the wash cloth into the cold water, and wring it out. "I can't wait to see her."

Erin's face softens. "Me too. I guess she's just strong-willed. Already digging her heels in. it's a good thing, right?"

Wishing I was better at hiding my unease, I simply nod. "It's a good thing."

"There's another contraction coming," she grits out.

The pain silences her. She grimaces and tenses up her whole body, her moan almost a scream. A minute later, the pain eases, but this lull between contractions does not look particularly painless, and Erin continues to grimace as she looks up at me. "How far apart?"

"Two minutes."

She groans.

I try to keep positive and filter my weary thoughts. We continue to walk around and around the room while she clings to me as though I'm her last contact with reality. With each contraction she moans and gasps and pants. After a particular hard contraction that wasn't even two minute apart, she murmurs, "Don't leave me okay? I want you to stay here."

I can see that she's staring to panic. The pain must be getting excruciatingly worse. A wave of pity sweeps over me. Nothing I do can stop the pain from coming back.

"I'm not going anywhere," I assure her. I brush back the sweat-drenched hair that has fallen on her face. "I'm going to stay right here. You don't have to worry about that."

She nods, and the look on her face tugs at my heart strings. I pull her against me and she rests her face against my chest as I gently stroke her hair. The roundness of her belly both, separating us and linking us.

"We will get through this together," I tell her. "I'm not leaving your side."

She nods and her body tenses with an another contraction.

I wonder—what have I done to her?

x

Over the next few hours, the contractions become sharper and closer together. After a few back-to-back contractions, Erin lets loose a string of curses that would have impressed anyone. She looks up at me and her eyes are begging for relief.

"I'm done," she pants. "It's your turn."

Her wet hair seems to be permanently stuck to her forehead now, beads of sweat spots her upper lip, and her skin has the white sheen of a wax figure.

"I wish I could, Babe." _I really wish I could._

"I just…" breath. "I just need a bre—"

Erin seizes up again as if an electric current struck her body. At the peak of the contraction, her face pinches together so badly I barely recognize her. When the contraction fades, her features smooth again, but the after effect troubles me.

"W-What is it? Are you okay?" I ask.

"I think…." Erin groans with effort, writhing protectively over the rigid lump of our unborn child. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! I-I think I need to push," she says in between breaths.

I lean over to the bed and help her crawl up. Erin grasp convulsively at the edge of the blankets with the effort controlling her pain, face fading from red to white in a matter of seconds.

I feel both, horrified and thrilled. I grab the phone with trembling hands, dialing Natalie's safe house. She picks up on the first ring.

"I-I think it's t-time," I say, trying to mask the alarm in my voice.

"Jay, wash your hands, preferably with alcohol," Natalie instructs. "Then I want you to see how large the opening of her uterus is with your thumb and forefinger. It should be 10 centimeters."

I wash my hands and look, probing Erin as gently as I can. "I-I think it's just about there," I say. "I feel something behind—maybe it's the head?"

"Could be," Natalie says, sounding relieved.

Another contraction hits and I watch as Erin's knuckles turn white from gripping the blanket so hard. "I need to push," she gasps around her pain.

When the pain eases, I help Erin to a semi-sitting position and prop her up.

"Erin," Natalie's voice rings up from the phone. "Pull up your knees, and when you feel the next contraction, take a deep breath and push with it," she says.

And Erin does just that. With every contraction she pushes for 10 counts. Twenty minutes go by and she continues to push again and again like a training drill. I can see that the effort is draining her, and she is beginning to collapse into complete tiredness. I find myself having to tell her to push when I see a contraction overtake her. And slowly, the crown of a little head emerges.

"Oh my God, Erin, I see the head. Oh, oh, oh! There's hair. Lots of hair!" I say, feeling stunned and woozy. I can see her head. My daughter's head!

I look up at Erin and a broad, albeit, tired smile, spreads on her face.

"You got this, babe," I say.

With a renewed sense of purpose, we work for a while in this manner, but Erin struggles to get the entire head out. With each push I can see the head bulge father out, only to regress once the contraction is done. She pushes with all she has, but it doesn't work— I realize in this horrendous, shuddering moment that the baby seems to be adamantly stuck.

Erin is worn-out; as the pain eases, her body goes slack, her eyes close, as though seeking escape in the (very) small intervals between contractions.

"Natalie," I finally say, after fifteen minutes of this. "The head is not coming out."

"Jay, on the next contraction, try to guide the head gently out."

"Okay, I will tr—"

"Jay," Erin pulls at my arms restlessly. "If she doesn't come out, you have to take her out – whatever means necessary," she says and her expression collapses as if she had been holding back an enormous weight of emotion and can't contain it no longer. "If I can't push her out, promise me you'll take her out!" She screws her eyes tight and starts weeping in great racking sobs.

I'm struck speechless. I feel the color drain from my face. Tears well up in my own eyes, and I shake my head. "No, I won't—you're fine. Er, she's coming out."

She shakes her head in determined negation, and starts crying afresh. "Promise me you'll take her out."

I shut my eyes briefly, willing myself to speak in a mollifying voice. "Erin, you can do this. I can see her. Babe, she's right there! One more big push."

Disregarding Natalie's instruction, I go behind Erin and, lifting her up a bit farther, wait for the next wave. Her skin feels hot against my chest and I'm sure she can feel my heart pummel against her back. Then, when I feel Erin's muscles tighten, the contraction shaking her, I tell her to bear down. "Do it now. Push!"

"I don't think I can…. I don't…. Ahhh."

She pushes and, with an earth-shattering heave, the head slowly delivers.

"Ahhh…. It feels like it's burning!" Erin exclaims. "Oh God… Ahhh."

Gently, I ease myself from behind her, and go back around to my original spot.

"Jay is the head out?" Natalie's voice rings, I hear urgency there.

"Y-Yes. Oh my God. I see her nose and her lips and—"

"—Check if the cord is wrapped around the neck, and remember to keep her facing down, Jay."

"No cord. Facing down. Got it. Oh my God. Erin, she's almost out," I say.

Erin's eyes are red and swollen. She has worn herself far past the point of exhaustion, her body is struggling past the bounds of ordinary strength as it strives to force our daughter into the world.

"C'mon, one more push, babe."

Erin raises herself up a bit and looks down, and on the next contraction she pushes with all she has, almost frightening me with the intensity of her effort. Then there's a small pause, and slowly the shoulders appear, and holy shit, the rest of Nora's slimy, little body slithers out and onto my arms.

I look at the little baby stunned. We made her. The totality of our love has been succumbed into this tiny human being. I'm wordless by the sheer fact of… everything. Two legs, two arms, ten fingers, ten toes. Healthy pink. Covered in wax and blood and gunk, eyes screwed tight against the world.

She then snatches at the air with tiny little sobs that develop into a hearty cry.

"S-She's here," I say completely overwhelmed - my brain struggling to make the proper connections. I find myself laughing and crying at the same time. "She's here!"

Erin raises her head, eyes wide and brimming with tears, and impossibly green. "Let me see her. I want to see her," her voice suddenly steady, her pain seemed immediately relieved.

I carefully support the baby's head and place her, writhing and crying onto Erin's chest.

There's nothing but love in Erin's eyes. Her small grin turns into a permanent smile of deep happiness at the sight of our daughter. "Hey," she whispers into her little neck, and she kisses the top of her head, her nose, her lips. "She's perfect. Absolutely perfect."

Erin settles the little squirmy, whimpering bundle against her breasts, crooning softly to her. I feel myself smile. The smile sits clumsily on my face- the first one I haven't forced in the last twenty-four hours.

"Jay." Natalie's voice pulls me back. "You need to suction any mucous out of her nose and mouth, and cut the cord."

With my hands still shaking I use a syringe and gently aspirate her little nose (it's so tiny) and her mouth, and follow her instructions, tying and clipping the umbilical cord.

"Put a warm towel on the baby," Natalie instructs.

I walk to the heater and pull the warm towel and place it on top of Nora, cocooning her cozily on Erin's chest. There's isn't a trace of pain left on Erin's face.

My God. Holy shit.

"I love you". I bend forward and kiss Erin's forehead and linger, linger, linger… I want her to know how happy she makes me feel. I don't believe actual words exist to adequately describe my love for this woman. I'm drunk with the overwhelming love I feel for her right now. "I love you so, so much."

"I love you too," she says dreamily.

"Jay, you're not quiet done yet. The placenta will deliver next," Natalie pipes up.

I drop to my knees beside the bed and with a little push from Erin, who is in another world right now, the placenta comes out.

"How does it look?" Natalie asks. "Round, no missing chunks?"

"Y-Yes, I mean, no. It looks intact," I say prodding the weird looking thing.

"Now you need to keep it cold – all of it— until I can get there."

I pick up the phone and take it off speaker. "Anything else?" I ask.

"It's normal for Erin to continue to bleed for the next couple of weeks or so. Having the baby nurse will help the uterus contract and lessen the bleeding."

"Okay."

"I will be by the phone the whole time. Keep a close eye on Erin for the next few hours."

"I will."

"Congratulation, dad. You guys did it!"

"Thank you, Natalie."

We bid goodbye and I go about cleaning and placing the placenta inside the sterilized cooler. I walk up the stairs and quickly open and shut the trap door. The little shack is shaking with the howling winds outside. The bitter cold bites at my skin, but I don't feel cold. I don't' feeling anything, but an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude. I crumble to my knees and bury my face in my hands, crying with emotions and relief.

 _Everything is good. Everything is okay._

Tears of joy and love run unchecked down my face. Every emotion is jumbled inside my head, banging into each other and setting off small synaptic explosions. I'm full with so much gratitude that if I were to die at this exact instance, I would die a happy man.

The sun sets, and the sky – streaked gold and rose and purple – is beautiful. I take a moment to pull myself together, to catch my breath, and clean up some of the blood that is on me. I hide the cooler, just outside the trap door to the basement, and slowly make my way down the steps. I return and find Erin smiling, but with a distracted, inward look, as though listening to something far off, which she can only hear. She is caressing our girl's fuzzy head with her cheek. Pink, peaceful and beautiful.

At the sound of my presence, though, Erin looks up, exhausted but happy-looking. A tear forms in the corner of her eye, thinning as it travels across her cheek and down her chin, falling into Nora's sparse fuzzy hair. "She really is beautiful, isn't she? Just look at her! Have you ever seen anything more perfect?"

The happiness is her eyes makes my heart overflow. I walk towards the bed and take a seat. I run my hand over Erin's golden locks, following the line and flow of it to where it falls against her shoulder. I let my hand drift onto Nora's. Her head is still damp and sticky.

"How is she?" I ask.

"Sleeping like a baby," Erin says with a small laugh at her own joke.

I have never loved her more.

Nora's round newborn face is oblivious, perfect little fingers curled into tiny fists, fat cheeks resting against her mother's chest, eyes closed in the new exhaustion of existence, small mouth slightly open in sleep.

I drape my arm around Erin, and press my face into the back of her Neck and kiss her there. "She's perfect, and I'm so proud of you. You have dibs on everything, forever."

Erin chuckles. "Couldn't have done it without you," she says.

I push my index finger into Nora's curled palm and her little fingers grip back. "Yes, you could. I was just here as a spectator to your greatness."

We stay huddled together, watching Nora in reverent silence. While we are inside this little bubble, it almost feels like the world it's on pause, and there is a chance that, when it starts again, everything will be as it should.

x

The next couple of days are difficult. Between the newness that comes with caring for a baby, and the never-ending silence from the radios, Erin and I feel exhausted and a bit raw. There's a juxtaposition of emotions where we are extremely happy and fortunate one minute to deeply sadden and anxious the next.

Natalie arrives two days later and checks on Nora and Erin. Both are doing great. She brings no news from the refuge, but tells us she found a place to make the serum and that's where she's headed. We wish her all the luck and with a tight hug of appreciation, we bid her goodbye.

Two weeks later, we finally get the dreadful news that the Refuge is gone. Burned down. But no news of Hank. Everybody is on their own (at least for now). Erin cries, for two whole days, while clutching Nora's little body to her. Even now, I catch her crying in her sleep- not waking, but sobbing gently, tears leaking from behind her closed eyelids.

Your entire perspective changes when you have a little one, and now I also mourn for the only place I was happy to call home. Silver lining? The evacuation was effective and everyone is safe, and our supplies and personal belongings are in trucks hidden in safe warehouses. No one is starting from zero.

"We should go to the warehouse and get our stuff – Nora's stuff," I tell Erin. Nora is currently nursing, and the sounds of contentment coming from her are the most comical, the sounds of a small creature being filed to the very top with milk.

"Then what?"

I shrug. "We can go North. Hide there for a while."

"Cabin by the lake?" Erin asks, her tone only a teensy bit kidding.

"Why not?" I say. "We can stock on supplies and take the 300."

Erin bites her bottom lip in thought. "What about the unit? Without Hank, the people will be looking to us for guidance. We're just going to abandon them?"

"Not abandon. Remember that no one can know about Nora until the serum is made. For everyone's safety, I think the team will agree that, it's best if we stay away." I run a smoothing hand down her hair. "Once everything blows over, we'll come back. They are probably already scouting places to rebuild, or to at least to keep everyone together. I'm sure Platt is all over that." I tell her, knowing how much Erin wants to be there to help them. "They are in good hands."

Erin forces a smile, but I know it too soon to talk about this situation lightheartedly. With a heavy sigh, she says. "Leaving is out best bet, huh? Going North is what's safe for Nora right now."

"It's a good plan," I assure her, and kiss her temple. She leans into me.

"Here—" She hands me Nora so I can burp her. "I need to eat."

Let me tell you, nothing compares to how nice a baby feels against your shoulder, the sweet warm weight, the look of the pursed lips swollen to a pink by suckling. I smile, feeling her warm breath against the side of my neck, I can feel her tiny exhalations. God lord, this girl already had so much of my heart.

I walk back and forth patting the baby's back.

"When do you want to leave?" Erin asks.

"Whenever you're up for it. It will be a long journey to warehouse."

"We can leave tomorrow."

"You sure you're up for it? Maybe it's too soon."

"I'm good. I promise. Plus, Nora can't go on living wrapped in your flannels forever."

"What? She looks cute."

Erin's smile is big, true, and beautiful. "Let's start packing."

Nora eventually burps and makes these small sounds that moves me more than words can. I place her in the little makeshift cot and she straightens both legs in a long stretch and yawns, before relaxing back into a loose bundle. I place my finger in her hand, and when she squeezes it is strong and unequivocal.

I stand and hug Erin tightly to me and she smells of baby – of milk and heat and musk. I love Erin in a thousand small and large and trivial and important ways. I want her in my life and in my bed, and I want us to be a family, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that happens.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **You guys have been so supportive and I appreciate every single one of you. Thank you for going on this journey with me. With that said, this fic will be wrapping up soon, with one more chapter, followed by an epilogue. I feel it's the right moment. My outline ends here, and I'm happy I followed it through. Thank you again. You guys rock. Cheers!**


	29. Chapter 29

**Thank for the reviews. Here is the last chapter.**

 **SoFeelingTheLove Beta'd.**

 **I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Erin's POV**

I have seen Jay as a friend, a lover, a fierce protector, a donor, but seeing him as a father is by far my favorite side of him. Jay, a guy who oozes masculinity and strength, has turned into this tender, loving being. He is attentive and caring, and the love that emanates from him is so strong, it is palpable. I didn't have a father growing up, and knowing my daughter will have the very best dad means everything.

We left the safe house a little after sundown. There's a settlement not too far from here, and Jay wanted to make sure we were inconspicuous when we began our journey north. Miss Nora is wrapped cozily to my chest in a carrier we fashioned out of bed sheets. She feels like a soft warm bag of skin and fluid against my heart.

My coat is zipped just a bit past her fuzzy head, and I can see her little cheeks blushing the color of the palest peach, while her mouth is pursed like a tiny raspberry, sucking on her tiny fist, looking as if she is determined to eat it.

"She good?" Jay stops, laying a gentle hand over the bulge under my jacket.

"Yeah, she's good. But I think she will want to eat soon," I tell him. My breasts are beginning to ache, which is another telltale sign that she needs to be fed soon.

"The next time I see a manhole, we'll climb down and take a break." When I eye him skeptically he gives me a shadow of his usual grin and adds, "I will make sure it's a good one. No stale water. No smells."

I nod. "Thank you."

"How are _you_ doing?" He asks.

"I'm doing okay," I tell him. "But if you want to know if I'm in any kind of pain, the answer is no."

Although my labor and delivery weren't a walk in the park (the events still have dreamlike quality in my memories), I did recover fairly quickly. Breast feeding was a bit of a challenge, but we are slowly figuring that out too.

"How about your leg? I saw you massaging it a couple of miles back," I ask. His gait, I also noticed, is slow and stiff.

"It's a bit stiff," he says, running his hand over the sore spot on his thigh. "When we stop I'll try to stretch a bit."

We continue our journey and there's nothing but scrub bush and a few burned-out buildings in sight. But true to his word, Jay finds a decent manhole that I can feed Nora and we can rest up a bit. Having been stationary for the last three weeks, my muscles also feel angry that I'm on the move again, and I know they are probably busy taking vows of future immobility once we reach the warehouse.

I watch Jay stretch, and I can see the evidence of stress and pain all over his face. "That bad, uh?"

Jay tries to hide his discomfort, but his grim expression reveals his pain. "It hurts to move anything remotely connected to my right hip, which as it turns out is just about every other part of my body, including my ears," he says and his lips spread into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"Inside our pack, there's a baggie with a few white pills. Natalie gave them to me for pain. Maybe you should take some. I bet it will help."

"Yeah," he says and begins rummaging through our pack as I continue to nurse a very hungry Nora. "I don't know why it's this sore." His brows draw together into confusion. "I don't remember it being this painful when we tracked to the safe house."

"Maybe it's because you didn't stretch. I'm a little sore too. We have been couch potatoes these last three weeks and our muscles are just complaining that we are up and walking again."

"I hope you're right."

He takes the pills and crouches down in front of me, and with his right index finger, he lightly strokes Nora's cheek as she suckles away at my breast.

"The unit is very excited to meet her," he says. "Most of them haven't seen a new baby like this."

"I haven't seen one since I was a child myself," I say and give Nora my pinkie finger, her little hand curls around it. "But everything is smaller than I remember."

"I've seen a few babies, but not for a few years. But it's different when I know she's mine."

Stroking Nora's soft cheeks several times more, Jay moves his finger from the baby's cheek up my bare breast and stops under my chin. Lifting my head, he gives me a short but full kiss. I lean back enough that Nora releases from my breast and she starts whimpering. Jay pulls away, looking down and smiling.

"Sorry, baby girl." He stands up, wiping his knuckles beneath his nose. "Didn't mean to interrupt your lunch. I'm still learning to share your mom with you."

I guide Nora's head forward and she latches herself quickly. A few minutes later, she is half-asleep, but still gently feeding.

"Should we stay here a bit longer and rest? We've been walking almost all night." I say. "We won't find another manhole like this to rest."

Jay thinks this over. "Is that what you want to do?"

I nod, yes. "It will give our sore muscles a bit of a rest." I mostly want him to rest his sore leg.

Jay agrees and we set up camp inside the manhole. Huddled together for warmth, we sleep.

x

We sleep most of the daylight away (always safer to travel at night), and when it's nearing sundown, we start back up. Jay's gait looks better, composed even, but I notice his gloved fingers wringing together more and more often, an outward sign of worry. As we continue to walk I notice that he is becoming strung taut as a bow. His eyes are wind open, unblinking, like he's had a shot of adrenaline.

"Is your leg still bothering you?" I ask.

"No," he shakes his head, but doesn't elaborate.

After a beat I ask, "What's on your mind?"

"Just stay behind me, okay?" He says, and his tone worries me.

I look around, but see nothing. Nothing but desolation and wasteland all around. The dimming sunlight also doesn't help either.

"Jay what's going on? What are you not telling me?"

"Just…. stay behind me, okay?" His voice is stern and final.

"Okay," I agree and my hands instinctively wrap around Nora. I walk behind him, my heart hammering against my ribcage.

We come to an abrupt stop as we realize suddenly that the overpass we are walking on has collapsed at midpoint. Rusted iron jut out from where the roadway has been severed. We stand at the edge for a moment. Feeling the cold wind whip around us, out coats fluttering in the breeze. I watch him look back from where we came from, then down.

"Do you think you can climb down?"

I look below and see that the overpass's collapsed section is now just a mountainous pile of rubble that leads to the road below. The light is dimming, but I can still see enough.

"I think so," I tell him.

He takes my hand and we start to make our way carefully down. Once we reach the road below we see no signs, just more devastation and decay. The only structure around is an abandoned gas station a few yards ahead. Probably comprehensively looted. I can see a busted car parked at one of the pumps. Like every other car, it's stripped of its tires and probably its engine.

Jay stops and stands still, listening, all his senses heightened to the extreme. He hears something, and Im beginning to hear the faintest of sounds.

"Hello? Is anybody there?" A female voice calls.

I see Jay reach for his gun, hesitates, then withdraws his hand.

I walk from behind Jay, but he stops me. I zero in where his eyes are trained and see an older woman, hunched by the side of the gas station about fifty yards ahead, muttering to herself.

"Help? Can someone help me?"

I try to get closer, but Jay stops me once more. I can see the old woman is struggling to pull something off the ground. An upturned shopping cart? It's hard to see from here.

"Should we help her?" I whisper.

Jay is visibly pale and his blue eyes are narrow, scanning. "No. Don't move," he bites the words out and his hand moved slowly to his thigh holster hidden beneath his heavy winter jacket.

And then it dawns on me. This is a trap. For a moment I forget to breathe. "Bandits?" I whisper.

Jay gives me an almost imperceptible nod, not taking his eyes off the road. Although he looks composed, I can tell he is scared out of his mind. I look down at Nora and the feeling of dread begins creeping up my spine, my neck, its fingers closing around my throat. A lone cricket creaks pathetically somewhere.

Any other day, encounters like this wouldn't have shaken me. We have the upper hand, but adding Nora to the mix has fear freshly planted and germinating in my mind. Jay, too. I've seen him nearly decimate five vagrants without breaking a sweat. Nora changed our perspective, if not our entire architecture. That reckless abandon we carried, is no longer here.

"We are not falling for the theatrics," Jay announces. His voice firm, calm, and sharp. Like the well-honed blade of a knife. "Come out and show your faces."

Thirty yards away, the scrub bushes around us come alive. Then four road brigands pounce from apparently thin air and land in front of us. They cast off their camouflage net and begin walking towards us. They look every bit as brutish and horrifying as you can imagine. One of them licks his chapped lips, revealing a mouth devoid of teeth. I zip my jacket all the way up and let my arms fall at my sides. Nora squirms, but thankfully settles.

"We don't have anything," Jay says outright. "What we do have is this." He pulls three protein bars from his pocket. "Take this and we can all be on our way."

One of the bandits lashes out and slaps Jay's hand. The protein bars spill to the ground.

"We don't want your food," he says with an unnerving glint in his eye.

"I'm telling you, we have nothing." Jay slowly bends over placing the scattered protein bars in his pack, while simultaneously showing the brigand leader the contents of our pack. "You see? We don't have anything of value."

The gang of degenerates look at each other, scoffing.

"Do you think we're some kind of stupid?" The leader, I assume, says and pulls out a pocket knife. The rest of the bandits follow suit. "Open your jackets."

I feel a cold chill run up my spine, and my body goes numb

I watch Jay slowly unzip his jackets, pulling both sides apart, careful not to show the thigh holster on the inside of his leg. "See, there's nothing. Take our food and let us be on our way. We don't want any trouble."

Jay is trying his hardest to resolve this peacefully, but I can see that this might not be possible.

The brigand leader looks Jay up and down, then points his knife towards me. "Open your jacket," he demands.

Jay stand up to his full height, obscuring me protectively from view. "She won't be doing that," he says firmly. I can see the anger bubbling inside him. His right arm tenses as his hand forms a fist. "Just take the food and go."

The leader takes a menacing step forward. "What is she hiding, uh? Is it more valuable than her life? Or yours? You're in the wrong place at the wrong time, lover boy. Look around. You are outnumbered."

He takes another step forward and so does Jay. The two men stand, face to face, though Jay towers over the deplorable man, and his grit gives him the look of a giant.

"Take the protein bars and go," Jay repeats calmly.

At that moment Nora, sensing my tension, squirms, stiffens, and releases a high pitch shriek. I freeze.

"What's that?" One of that bandits asks.

Jay looks back, further shielding me when the men begin to approach.

"It's coming from the lady," another bandit reasons as Nora's shrieks gets progressively louder.

The leader motions with his head and the gang behind him starts moving forward. "Get the girl."

Jay looks back at me, his eyes icy blue eyes telling me wordlessly to take cover.

In an instant, Jay draws his gun shooting two of the men. The loud bangs startles Nora even more and her shrieks are now loud sobbing cries. The leader looks in horror as the bodies of his cronies falls to the asphalt. His face goes pale, the blood seemingly draining from it.

The two remaining hesitate, but attack Jay at once, weapons flailing. The men swing their knives wildly, but Jay deftly sidesteps so quickly it doesn't seem like he moves at all. Jay takes his time and connects each blow. I do the only thing I can think of. I turn around and crouch down, soothing the screaming bundle attached to my chest.

I can hear Jay breaking the men apart over Nora's cries. The bandits scream, but it hardly sounds sensible, and in a few minutes it's over. I turn around and see the four bandits collapsed on the road, blood pooling out onto the asphalt.

The bandit leader, who looks horribly wounded, crawls forward, shrieking, looking up at Jay bearing down on him, silhouetted ominously by the moonlight.

"I told you to take the food and go."

The man spits blood at him and mutters a "Fuck you."

And with that, Jay runs the bandit through with his own knife. The eyes roll back as his final breath leaves him. Dead.

Jay gathers me in his arms and I'm so relieved I could cry. So I do. I weep as I cling tightly to him. He is talking to me, but I can't make out what he is saying. I look down at Nora, now that she is safe, and I notice how I'm shaking.

Jay kisses my forehead and taking off his glove, he runs his fingers over Nora's red little face. "Erin, hey, are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine. I'm just… relieved. You?" I say, padding him, checking for injuries.

"I'm good. Probably a few bruises, but I'm okay."

"Is she okay?"

"She's just startled," I say.

Jay places a lingering kiss over Nora's crown. "It's okay baby girl, everything is okay," he whispers soothingly. "Everything is okay."

We stay huddle for another minute before Jay pulls us to our feet, "C'mon we have to keep moving. The gunshots were probably heard for a few miles. We can't stay here."

We walk towards the old lady, slumped on the road, sobbing now. She cowers as we approach, certain that she's next.

Jay lifts the shopping cart and rights it. The woman watches incredulously as Jay throws a couple of protein bars inside the cart.

"Take it and go. Don't fall in with men like these. No good can come from it."

She looks at him puzzled, "Why are you doing this?"

Jay doesn't say anything. He simply takes my hand and we continue our journey north.

x

It takes us four days to get to the warehouse where most of the Refuge is settled. Alvin and a very excited Burgess are the first ones to greet us.

"Oh my God! You're really here!" Kim exclaims elatedly. Her eyes scan us up and down, and knowing what she is looking for, I simply run my hands over the little lump underneath my jacket where Nora is cozily tucked in. Her face softens and she runs her hand over the small bulge. "Can't want to see her," she whispers.

Alvin drapes his arms around my shoulder and pulls me close with a gentle squeeze. "It's good to see you kid." He peeks at the little bundle, but only sees the top of Nora's fuzzy head. "I see hair," he says with a typical Alvin grin.

Unexpected tears burn my eyes. I feel them rising and the tightness threatening to break in my chest. I hadn't realized how much I missed being among family. "It's so good see you." I say and clear my throat, and ask the question that's been at forefront of my mind. "Any _news_?"

Alvin draws a deep breath and exhales slowly. "Nothing yet. We combed the debris and didn't find anything."

"So you think he is out there?" I ask.

"I've known Hank for years and he is always a step ahead of us." Alvin squeezes my shoulders again and adds, "He will come back at the right time." He pauses, and I can't help but thing that eyes are, indeed, a window to the soul. Because, even though is seems confident, his eyes betray his nervousness, his uncertainty. "Now, how about we go inside where is warm," he says.

Once inside, I can see that the warehouse is not really a warehouse, but some sort of a storage building from the old world.

"This is bigger than I had imagined," Jay notes.

"It's a good transition place," Alvin notes. "But we need to find a permanent place soon."

We follow Alvin and Kim as they weave in and out of hallways until we reach a red metal door. "This way to the _new_ bullpen," Alvin says.

I wince as the door screeches open. We walk in and the whole unit is there. Immediately, we are bombarded with hugs and kisses and congratulations. My heart grows a little softer, a little lighter.

"C'mon, let's see her," Ruzek says.

I unzip my jacket and extract the little bumble out of the improvised carrier. Our baby girl stretches her little limbs, then yawns really big. Then her rosebud face puckers, her pink lips crumples into a pout, but quickly relaxes.

Everyone gathers around, gazing at Nora in amazement. Most have never seen such small baby before.

"Everyone, meet Eleanor Lindsay Halstead," Jay says.

"She's like a little human being," Ruzek says, cautiously reaching out to touch Nora's tiny toes.

"She's a real human," Jay notes, stroking Nora's velvet head tenderly. "Even though she's a very small one."

"She's so beautiful," Kim says and the softest sigh escapes her.

"Would you like to hold her?" I ask.

"Can I?"

"Of course," I tell her and slowly relinquishing Nora to her awaiting arms. Nora turns her pink round face towards her chest and roots for a nipple. After a moment she gives up, yawns, then settles back into a peaceful snooze.

Kim holds her very tenderly and very carefully, almost like she's holding a porcelain doll. She counts her little fingers and toes, toucher her little button nose, and feels the baby-soft hair atop her little head.

"She's perfect," she tells me. And, to Jay. "So tiny. So perfect!"

"She is a beauty," Alvin says, moving in closer to get a good look at Nora.

"Good thing she looks nothing like you," Antonio remarks, nudging Jay playfully in the ribs. "She looks like her mother."

Jay laughs and meets my gaze. All proud and happy. "I'm totally okay with that."

"I don't see it," I counter. "I can't tell who she looks like, yet. Her eyes seem blue, though. But I read somewhere that all babies have blueish eyes when they are born."

"God, I can't believe you guys made a baby," Ruzek says, standing over Kim's shoulders as she rocks Nora from side to side.

"Sometimes I can't believe it either," Jay says.

"You guys are probably tired," Antonio chimes in. "We have a room set up for you guys where you can stay and rest up."

Jay pulls me close and kisses my hair. "Why don't you take Nora, while I discuss a few things with the guys."

I look up at him, and despite wanting to be part of the conversation, my tired bones desperately crave a nice warm bed right now.

"Okay," I say. "Don't take too long."

He gives me a quick kiss and I leave with Kim and Nora. Once we reach our room I watch Nora blink blindingly as she turns her head rooting around, making these little lip-smacking noises I recognized as hunger.

"I think she may be hungry," Kim says. "Sorry, Nora, I'm afraid I'm not equipped there."

Kim cuddles Nora close and breaths in her sweet, warm scent before handing her back to me. Nora roots, her mouth blindly groping, the flesh of my breast tingling with electricity as the tiny mouth finds the nipple and clamps on.

Silence falls, and the only sound we hear is Nora glugging contentedly.

Kim clear her throat. "So, tell me everything. When Natalie told us Nora was born, I was floored!"

I smile. "I guess you can say I was too! I was in complete denial the whole time. I read that when you are in labor, you have pain in your stomach, like cramps. I thought there as something wrong with me because I felt back pains. The contraction came and went and my head couldn't wrap around the fact that she was on her way. It was just too much I think for my brain to process at the time. The Aedes coming. Leaving the Refuge…"

"How was the pain? I heard it's pretty awful."

"It felt like my insides were being shredded apart."

Kim laughs. "How about Jay? Can't imagine what he was like."

"He was amazing. Very supportive. Very aware of everything. Can't imagine what I would have done without him," I say and feel my cheeks blush.

Kim smiles. "He looks different. You do too. A good different, you know?"

I nod. "I feel different."

After a beat, Kim asks, "So what's the plan? I heard the guys saying you're not staying."

I shake my head. "We can't. We have to keep Nora away. We are going up North."

Kim smiles sadly. "We'll miss you guys. Like, a lot."

"We'll miss you guys too. But we'll come back when it's safe," I say, with an assurance I don't altogether feel.

"Counting on it."

x

It's late when Jay finally comes to the room. Nora has just finished nursing (again) and she's blowing milk bubbles from her tiny lips. For the first time in a while my breasts are light, almost empty.

Jay takes Nora and is practically suffocating her with kisses. She blinks her startled blue-gray eyes up at him.

"Careful, she just ate," I warn. "I feel like that's all I'm wanted for. Food."

Jay is not listening. He is in another world with Nora, which makes me a tiny bit jealous of how she's staring up at him mesmerized. I sit back against the bed's headboard.

"Moo," I say.

Jay stops kissing Nora and looks at me. "What?"

"That was a cow joke," I explain. "I officially feel like a cow, or some dispenser of food."

"God, Erin, you're beautiful, would you stop?"

"Moo," I say again, softly.

Jay shakes his head, and after putting Nora down in her little bassinet, he comes and sits next to me. He snakes his arm around me and says, "Have I told how amazing you are?"

I blush and chew on the inside of my lip. He begins kissing my neck, and he smells so good. Heat blooms over my skin and washes through my limbs. But I feel gross, and leaky, and globular. I wish I had someone to commiserate with. It's been almost four weeks since Nora was born and I still feel so fragile and sensitive. I wonder if it's normal.

He leans in and kisses me, lips landing softly on my cheek, close to the corner of my mouth. He probably sees the momentary panic ripple across my face and pulls back and just kisses my hand. He rubs my knuckles with his thumb. "Don't worry, I'm not initiating anything. There's no rush," he says.

What did I do to deserve him?

His lips touch mine, and moves away slowly, lingering. He wraps his arm around me, and I press my head against his chest and I feel his warmth emanate through me.

Comfortable silence stretches between us for several beats before I ask, "So when do we leave?"

"I was thinking at sun down tomorrow. I don't want to run the risk of anyone seeing Nora." He exhales. "It's safer that way."

I nod, though my heart winds a notch tighter. "I'm not ready to leave. I want Nora to grow up in this community. I want her to have aunts and uncles that love her and care for her as much as we do."

He pauses to take a deep breath and a drink of water. "We are not leaving forever. We're coming back. We are going on an adventure."

"An adventure? We don't know what's out there. For all we know, there's more wasteland and desolation."

"We can't stay," he says softly. "We have to try. Plus, think of all these stories we'll tell Nora when she's older."

I smile. "You make leaving sound good."

He kisses the top of my hair. "Anything with you sounds good."

The next evening, while we drive a packed 300, the sun sits low and the sky has turned red above the horizon.

Jay turns to me and says, "A red sky at sunset usually means good luck."

I roll my eyes. "Really?"

"Yup."

"I thought it was just because the sun is low and light has to pass though much more air."

"Nope, it's good luck."

After a beat I say, raising my hand in a mock toast, "Here's to many adventures beyond the red sky."

Jay raises his hand in return. "To adventures beyond the red sky."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! Epilogue will follow. Cheers!**


	30. Epilogue

**Apologies** **for the delay. But here is the epilogue.**

* * *

 **Epilogue.**

 **Jay POV.**

 **3 years later.**

I was born into a world full of inconsistencies and disorder. Everything was infused with a dose of chaos and uncertainty. Unpredictability and instability were enmeshed routinely in my life. Would I be captured? Would I be killed for my blood? I was sentenced to live in constant fear of exposure for the rest of my life, and that was not a life worth living.

Yet, it was the chaos that completely changed my life. Erin came into my life like a tornado, and I'm eternally grateful I was in her path. I didn't know there could be so much beauty in chaos. I now welcome it in my life as a way to uncover new opportunities, recover my freedom, and discover the joy in life.

Take, for instance, my daughter Nora. Every day I uncover so much beauty and happiness in the chaos of her existence. Like her mother, Nora is doused with an extra dose of indomitability. This, didn't take long to figure out… or rather, it didn't take long for her to let us know. As soon as she learned to crawl, we knew we were in for a ride. There is so much personality packed into such a tiny package. She is curious and adventurous (otherwise as mischievous); stubborn, and willful (or you could say sure of herself and her convictions), sweet as candy (and at time sour as a lemon); loving, caring, and kind – but this seems to only just peer past the opening pages of the novel that my Eleanor Halstead.

She just turned three and as I watch her run around the yard in front of our cabin, some of the time it seems like she just happened to us yesterday, most of it seems like it was ages ago, like she's always been with us. Watching her grow is one of the great joys of my life.

My other greatest joy is Erin. My wife. My best friend. My lover. My everything. There is nothing in this world I wouldn't do for her. Erin found me broken and defeated, and she made me whole again. I love my girls so much I can feel it deep in my chest. I understand what it is to love someone so much it hurts.

We've packed so much surprise and joy and struggle and chaos into these last three years than anyone would've ever guess possible, but somehow we've found ourselves happier, healthier, and hopefully a wee bit wiser at the end of this journey then when we began.

I feel Erin's arms wrap around me from behind. I can feel her unmistakable warmth invade my body.

"Hey," I say, pulling her to face me and slipping my hand inside her opened jacket. "Everything okay?"

She sighs. The sadness in her eyes that has been slowly emerging in the past three weeks is apparent now. "I don't know. I got a lot of swirling thoughts in my head."

I kiss her hair and take her hand. "C'mon," I say, urging her. "Let's go for a walk." She nods and lets me pull her along. "Nora!" I call. "Wanna go for a walk?"

Nora looks up and runs her hand over her face, so that it smudges dirty all over her cheeks. "To da lake?" She asks.

"We can walk to the lake."

Nora smiles big, like her mother - a smile that can brighten the hardest heart on a cold, dark day. She then hotfoots towards us and Erin crouches down, reaches out her hand to grab Nora's chin. "My adventurous girl. You have dirt all over you face."

Erin tries to wipe it off, but Nora wiggles from her grasp and runs ahead of us faster than her little legs can take her.

"You can't catch me, mama," Nora says and grins at her own wit.

Erin shakes her head and stand up. "That's it. She will be covered in dirty from now on."

I laugh and shake my head. "She's fine. The lake water is still warm; we'll have her take a dip." Erin sighs sadly and I furrow my brow at the intensity of her stare. "Tell me, what's on your mind?"

Erin traces the lines on my forehead, as if to smooth them. "As much as I want to go _back_ , I think it's a bit unfair to take her from the only place she's called home."

I nod, understanding. We walk for a bit in silence, breathing in the sights, sounds, colors, and smells of all of nature—it is absolutely exhilarating. I'm going to miss this place.

After three years hiding away in a small cabin by an unperturbed lake, we have finally made the decision to return to the Refuge, which is no longer a refuge, but a stablished settlement with a working self-governing system. After the anti-viral serum was made and distributed, the Aedes fell and the Intelligence unit, together with other rebel forces, have been working hard to implement a fair and just society for all.

They need us more than ever now, and we can't turn our backs on them. It is because of them that we have been able to keep our daughter safe. But now, it's time to go back and built a better world for Nora and everyone to live in.

"It's not like we can't come back." I tell her. "This can be our vacation spot."

She laughs lightly, but then her smile fades. "Are we doing the right thing?"

"We are," I assure her. "Plus, Nora's going to love the city. Ruzek says people are pouring in from everywhere. Maybe she'll even meet kids her own age. It will be good for her. She's becoming a bit of a space cadet. Maybe this will bring her back to earth." Erin smacks my arm and I laugh, "Oww. What?"

"She's not a space cadet! She's three. That's what three year olds do!"

"How many three year olds do you know? I just know the astronaut over there."

Erin looks towards Nora, who is seemingly talking to a tree right now.

"See?" I point out. "Head in the clouds and her feet nowhere near the grounds of reality."

Erin smiles and says, "I just… I just want her to be safe. Here on earth or in space," she says.

"Don't worry about that. There's no reason why she wouldn't be safe. Everyone is on our side now."

She smiles, but I can see she is nervous. "I'm just scared of the extra attention she'll get. Being _the Nora_ , you know?"

I nod.

Natalie named the serum after Nora. Thus, it is known as the _Nora serum_. In the last year, word of this serum has spread all over, and so did the story behind it. In a way, little Nora's fame precedes her.

"You think she won't like the attention?" I ask.

Erin laughs. "I'm sure she'll love it. I just don't know if it's the best thing for her."

Erin's worry for Nora's wellbeing pulls at my heart strings. "We'll keep her protected as much as we can. Her notoriety will fade with time. How about we call her Eleanor? No one will know."

Erin laughs.

"Eleanor Halstead!" I call after the little squirt running ahead of us.

"Catch me daddy!" She shouts back and I run after her.

I can hear her scrambling through the path she knows so well, her feet digging into the cool damp mud. She laughs and giggles and I speed up my pace and snatch her up in my arms. I swing her around and around, as she grabs onto my neck, wrapping her little arms around me.

Nora gives the best, head-on-your-shoulder, squeeze-you-tight-and-don't-let-go hugs.

"Daddy, I'm gonna go dizzy!" She laughs, her mom's broad smile clear as day on her face.

"Okay, okay." I set her down and she wobbles like a drunken midget. "Hey Nora, do you want to scare mommy?" I ask.

"Yes!" She whispers.

"You have to be quiet or else mommy is going to find us."

We hide behind the tree, but Nora's giggles are slipping through her fingers. This girl is a silly heart and her goofiness is as heartwarming as the big, beautiful smile she inherited from her mom.

To no avail. Erin is on to us.

"Oh shoot, where did they go? I guess I'll just go home and eat chocolate by myself." Erin says and Nora loses it. She jumps out from behind the tree as if a fire was lit under her bum. "Mama! Nooo, I wanna chocolate too!"

I shake my head. So easily swayed.

Erin opens her arms wide and, like her Mom, Nora eyes twinkle as she runs to her. "How about we clean that face first, uh?"

Erin walks over to the lake and begins washing Nora's cheeks. I watch them – my girls, my life. What did I do to deserve them? I don't know what the future holds, but I do know this…. as long as they are with me, I will always be home.

 **Erin's POV**

I pause in the door way as I watch Jay rocking our baby girl to sleep, staring adoringly at her. My Nora…. She is without a doubt the sweetest little thing I have ever known and I seriously, seriously doubt that there will ever be a time in my life in which that statement will not be true…at least I hope not!

I must have done something right in my past life to deserve them – to deserve Jay. To be able to love him and have his love reciprocated all to myself. To be privy to all parts of him, even the ones he thinks he can hide from me. To share a child with him, who has his blue eyes and his freckled nose. A little girl who is clever and kind like him.

These past three years, I've learned so much about him, and about myself. I'm a better person, a better parent because of him.

I watch Jay lays his cheek against the top of Nora's head and holds her close. "Super Nora has now boarded the sleep train," he whispers to no one in particular.

I laugh.

Jay looks as if I've startled him. My sweet, sweet husband. All manly and tough, looking like a giant caveman cradling our babe. I tip toe towards him and grab him by his shirt collar, gently bringing him down to me for a kiss. When I let go of him he says, "What did I do to deserve that?"

"Just being you."

He smiles and places a quick peck on my lips. "All packed and ready to go?" He whispers.

"I think so," I tell him. "There's no more space in the 300."

Jay slowly places Nora in her bed and we tip toe back to the main room in the cabin. "You did pack everything," he says looking around our nearly empty space.

"Yeah," I say and I can't hide the sadness in my tone.

We go about out last night in our cabin somewhat wordlessly. The lights are dim. Jay builds a fire. We drink cheap liquor. We say nothing, and the reverent silence between us grows, as if someone vacuumed up the sound.

It is Jay who breaks the stillness in the air. He says in a low voice, "How about one more dip?" He smiles at me. There is a world of invitation in his icy blue eyes.

"Right now?" I ask. "Nora is asleep." I motion to her room.

He takes my hands and plants a light kiss over the ring on my finger. "I know." Then he goes from playful to seductive, cupping my chin in his hands, pulling my face closer to him; if I move even an inch, our noses will be touching. He pushes away a stray bit of hair, then he pushes my hair up from the roots at the bottom of my neck. He kisses my neck, then he traces my jaw line with soft kisses up to my lips.

"We'll take the monitor," he murmurs against my skin. His voice low and sexy, his smell so inviting, his touch like fire. "One last time."

He kisses me temptingly, before he finally pulls away slowly and rests his forehead against mine. The moisture of his lips linger.

I must have a dazzled look on my face because he chuckles, taking my hand and placing a fleeting kiss onto its back. "Let's go."

The air seems crisper. Cleaner. Bolder. More alive. We undress and the night breeze raises goose bumps on my skin. Jay takes my hand, and together we run to the water. Without stopping. The cold, chilly water almost shocks me.

"Brr."

"Come here, and let me warm you up," he says.

I move towards him and plaster my chest against his, hooking my legs around his waist. Ah. Jay's heat soaks into me, and soon I'm feeling no chill at all. He leans me back, kissing the column of my throat. I spread my arms and let them float on the surface of the lake, loving how the cool breeze chill my skin even as I begin burning up from the inside out.

"You are so beautiful, Erin. Perfect." He kisses my breasts, taking my nipple into his mouth and nibbling gently. Sensation shooting straight to my sex, building the tension thrumming through my body.

"I love my life with you." He moves to the other nipple and runs his tongue around the tip. "I love who I'm when I'm with you."

Jay pulls me once again against his chest to look into my eyes. "And I promise you no matter where we are, no matter where life takes us, I will always love you."

His words unravel me and I reach for him. Jay threads his fingers though my wet hair and his lips find mine. The kiss is wild and flavored by the water, which is sweet and fresh. Slowly he presses against me, skillfully, using his fingers to coax a rush of moisture from within me, and I cry out as my body responds to him. Lifting my bottom, he slowly lowers me onto him. He murmurs my name and presses deeper.

Body and soul, this man fills me completely.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pushing myself higher, shifting so that he strikes me precisely. He groans and increases his tempo. The hot friction paired with the wet skin-to-skin slide pushes me higher. I can tell he is climbing with me. My head spins as pleasure flows through me just as the water flows around us in small ripples as if we are our own little island.

He kisses my neck, moving faster and faster, sliding in and out of me. blood pulses through my body, all heading straight to where we are joined. He trusts deeper and the tension winds tighter in my belly. I dig my nails into his flesh and bury my face in the crook between his neck and shoulder, inhaling the scent of him – woodsy, masculine, mixed with the scent of water and sun. Hands pull me closer. Arms wrap around. My muscles tighten and then all in one big whoosh, releases as waves of pleasure and love consume me. He comes too. The two of us crashing into sweet oblivion at the same time.

His thrusting slows, and my body trembles from pleasure rather than cold. I feel like I might never stop shaking and I'm all right with that.

Even after all these years I still can't get enough of him – his presence, his affection; every part of me craves him. I'm always baffled that in the world of misery we've created something together that feels so right, so perfect.

I'm forever his and he is forever mine.

x

We go back to the cabin and we hold each other in front of the fire place. I trace a line down his bare stomach with my finger. We remain silent, basking in the afterglow, thinking of the memories we have made in this cabin. I swallow around the lump in her throat. "I'm going to miss this place," I tell him.

He bends his head and kisses my lips slowly, reverently cupping my face in his hands. "Me, too," he says.

He pulls away slightly and throws a couple of fresh logs on top of the embers and gives it all a stir until a few licks of flame materializes.

"What are you going to miss most?" He asks.

I think for a moment. "The stillness. I doubt it will ever be this quiet in the city."

"Probably not."

Silence falls once again. I cuddle closer to him. "What are you going to miss?"

Jay smiles and nuzzles my hair. "I will miss the crispness of the air here. Nothing beats it. Now," he says and although I can't see his face I hear the smile on his voice. "I'm looking forward eating all the good food."

I chuckle. For three years we've been eating the same diet – game meat, berries, and a few vegetables we've been able to grow. But every once in a while we'll find a few goodies from when we scavenge. Our last find was a chocolate bar.

"I guess I'm looking forwards to that too." I run my hand through his ruffled hair and stare at him for a moment. "I will also miss this. Just the three of us," I say biting my bottom lip.

With a warm smile on his lips, Jay leans in and unexpectedly kisses me. I hook my arm around his neck and the kiss goes deeper. His lips leave mine, but I feel them on the hollow of my neck. He rains kisses up my neck to the spot just behind my ear. He lingers there for a moment, sucking nibbling on my earlobe before starting another trail of kisses from my ear to collar bone.

When he begins to trail lower, a throaty moan of encouragement escapes my lips and he tightens his hold on me in response. He places one hand on the back of my neck, and his other hands slides down my back, stopping on my bottom and giving it a gentle squeeze. He goes back to kissing my lips, and I part them, taking him willingly. When we pull away, his cheeks are red and flushed, like my own I imagine.

"It will always be the three of us," Jay says, trying to catch his breath. I'm glad to see I'm not the only one struggling to regulate my breathing. "You don't have to worry about that. And do me a favor," he says

"Yeah?"

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" I ask.

"Bite your lip. You're threatening my resolve," he says with a flirty grin. I chuckle and he quickly pecks me on the lips. "What?" he laughs. "I'm serious. If you keep biting your lips, I won't be able to contain myself and it won't be just the three of us. It will be four."

His words stun me for a moment. _Four_? As in, another baby? By the look on his face, his admission also took him by surprise.

"I…um, I didn't mean… I wasn't thinking _that_ …" he stumbles.

The idea settles. My heart beats faster. "Four?" I ask, my voice sounding much smaller then I meant.

"I was just thinking… It's stupid…." He pauses, looking abashed and with cheeks flaming an absurd shade of red. "Now that we're going back to the city. W-We could, you know, try again? Give Nora a brother...or a sister," he adds. "Wouldn't mind being surrounded by girls. My teenage self would be happy about that."

I chuckle. My hands trembling. Another baby. The thought softens and opens my heart up.

When I don't speak Jay asks, "What are you thinking?" He looks rather nervous. "You don't have to make a decision right now. You don't even have to make a decision. I'm happy with just the three of us – it's more than I've dreamed of," he says, but stops when he catches me staring into space. "Er, tell me what's going on in your head."

I don't verbally answer him, instead I just bite my lips.

 **Jay's POV.**

The drive back into the city is uneventful. Two full days of driving, but stopping every few miles to stretch our legs and to let Nora run around a bit. It still amazes me how much energy is packed into such a small person. My girl packs a punch in her diminutive frame.

When we finally pull into the city, it feels… odd. I have never come inside these gates willingly and I go from a lazy happiness to red alert as my instincts snap to attention. As we draw closer to the city my restlessness becomes obvious and Erin reaches over the console to squeeze my hand.

"Feels weird, right? Like we're going something wrong."

Leave it to Erin to read me like a book. "Yes. I can't shake the feeling."

"Me too," she offers me a smile then looks back at Nora, who is now enthralled with the hustle and bustle of the streets. She'd never seen this many people ambling about. She is soaking in the strange sights and sounds; silently sitting up with her eyes peeled wide open.

"Nora," Erin calls. "You okay, baby?"

"Mama, was dat?" Nora points to one of the few towering building that is still standing.

"That's called a building. People live in them. Their houses are stacked on top of the other. That's why it's so tall."

I look in the rearview mirror and her eyes widen even more.

"Don't worry baby, that's not our new house." I assure her.

When we finally get to the new refuge compound, the patrol at the gate recognizes us right away.

"Jay! Erin! Oh my god! It's really you! There's been rumors that you were coming back, but I didn't think they were true. I will let them know you're here."

He opens the gate and we drive inside. I look at Erin and her smile is anxious, but it reaches her ears.

The compound is practically smack in the middle of the city. It's a huge brick building, a big archway entrance, windows all around it.

We step out of the 300 and I quickly unbuckle an anxious Nora from her car seat. She slides out and onto the ground at an impressive speed.

"Daddy, whas dis hea?" Nora asks pointing to the building.

"This is where your mom and I are going to work."

"Whaaabout me?"

"You're going to work here too, bug," Erin says and kisses her cheek.

We stand still, looking at the building. I can sense some hesitation starting to build up. So I say, "Let's go inside."

 **Erin's POV**

We climb up the stairs and when the doors open we are met with Trudy Platt. She looks the same, as if the three years haven't gone by.

"No way!" She exclaims, coming from around the desk. "No way!" A few patrolman ambling about stop to peep at the scene. Trudy pulls me to a hug, squeezing me so tightly I almost can't breathe. "I'm so happy to see you."

She pulls back and sees my little girl standing there, looking up at us with her daddy's eyes. Trudy crouches down to Nora's eye level and says, "You must be Nora."

Nora looks up at us, and I lower myself to her level too. "Nora, this is Trudy Platt. She used to work with mama and daddy before you were born."

Nora smiles timidly. "Hi."

"Hello," Trudy says it back.

We stand to our full length. "She's gorgeous, Erin. She looks so much like you." Then she turns to Jay and says, "You need a shave."

Jay smiles. He hasn't shaved since we left, but the reddish scruff on his face is actually very appealing to me.

"It's nice to see you too," he says.

Trudy gives us access to the bullpen that's up a set of stairs and we climb up, my heart beating erratically inside my chest, threatening to come out.

As soon as we reach the last step everyone's faces are already turned towards us, expectant.

"Oh my god!" Burgess screeches. She runs from behind her desk and pulls me to a hug. Kevin, Antonio, and Adam follow suit. A big smile lights up my face and I'm in awe at the amount love I'm feeling.

"Welcome back," Alvin says.

"Thank you," I say as tears slowly start to formulate in my eyes. Jay squeezes my shoulder. "I'm so happy to see everyone." I urge an unusually shy Nora from behind me and say, "Guys, you remember Nora, right?"

"How could we forget," Ruzek says.

"Oh my god, she's a little person now," Burgess says. She crouches down to Nora's level and says, "I met you when you were this small," he gestures with her hands.

"Nora, that's Kim—"

"—Aunt Kim," she corrects me. "And this is your uncle Adam, uncle Kevin, uncle Antonio, and your uncle Alvin," she adds.

Nora beams them a goofy smile. She's never seen so many people in one room before. "This is our family, Nora," I tell her.

Just then the door to the office directly across from us opens. Tears of happiness fills my eyes.

"Welcome home, kiddo."

I run to Hank and we hug. Tight.

Hank let himself be taken by the Aedes to protect everyone at the Refuge. With our leader incarcerated, the Aedes supposed the people would scatter and the Refuge ideal would fade. Unbeknownst to them, they played right into the plan that had been already in play.

I pull back to look at his face, and he has aged – a few more white hairs than I remembered.

"It's really good to see you, kid."

I wipe at my eyes, and I see his eyes getting misty too. "It's really good to be home." I turn around and urge Nora to come to me. She runs to my arms and I scoop her up, hugging her and crying and laughing as I say, "Nora, this is your grandpa."

"Hello," she waves timidly.

"Hello, Nora. I'm so happy to finally meet you."

Nora smiles. My heart bursts. I'm home.

We are home.

* * *

 **Endless thank yous to all who have supported this fic and have willingly gone on this crazy journey with me. 'm humbled by you all. You are light. the brightest lights. Until next time. Cheers, D.**


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